Volte Face
by carnifax
Summary: RoyGarth/SpAqua. Breathless, Garth glowered at Roy, his eyes smoldering with rage. "You're just mad because I'm right. Because what I'm saying is true."
1. Psychoanalysis

**Volte-Face**

By Carnifax  
Teen Titans  
Garth-Roy  
Rated T  
Drama/Romance  
_Roy always was an insincere womanizer and a leading cause for heartbreak. But what matters is that payback is payback, even if it is unintentional._

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"All men that are ruined are ruined on the side of their natural propensities."  
—Edmund Burke

When Robin said someone from Titans East was coming over to talk to Raven, she figured it would be Bumblebee. Karen always liked to talk, whether there was a problem, a gossip update, or just felt like being companionable. The two girls hadn't had a good, long chat for a while, and Raven almost missed the company—_almost_.

And if it wasn't Bee, it would've probably been Garth. As the prince of Atlantis, he always had a number of good stories to tell, and he'd listen patiently to anything Raven wanted to say. When he was around, she actually talked about herself without fidgeting, and he understood. Of course, his good looks and smooth voice were always more-than-welcome.

But she never expected to open the enormous main doors and see the lanky silhouette of _Speedy_ standing in front of the sinking sun. To be honest, the two didn't get along well, mostly for the fact that they hadn't gotten the chance to even talk to each other. His raucous, wild personality contrasted horribly with her quiet, rational one.

But the moment the door slid open, Raven felt an immense surge of complex emotions rush in at her. Speedy's face was tense, anxious, and his smile was crooked when he flashed it.

"You needed to talk to me?" It was more of a statement, but Raven waited for Speedy's terse nod before stepping aside.

"I heard you play therapist pretty well," he explained, following her into the elevator. "You have those powers, obviously, and if anyone could be… understanding, _you_ could. I think. Then again, I don't know you very well, so it's all assumption, although I really hope everyone's right… And anyway, if you just decide that I'm being stupid or foolish or whatever, you wouldn't be the type to break someone's trust and tell everyone. Not saying that Bee or Robin or anyone _would_… but you're distant—from me, at least—whereas I hang out with them more often, so if you judge me it wouldn't be as disast—"

"Speedy."

He snapped his mouth shut, brow twitching.

She flipped up her hood, adjusting it around her pale face. "You're rambling."

His face went blank for a moment, and then he shrugged, a nervous grin stretching awkwardly across the bottom half of his face. "Yeah, well…"

The elevator stopped, its doors sliding open to reveal the long hallway of bedrooms. "We'll talk in my room, if that's all right." She began floating down the hall, regardless.

"Sure, that's perfect," Roy said quickly, trotting after her eagerly.

Raven caught the archer's reflection in the glass of a window when she turned the corner and became slightly more aware of the tension rising within him. He plainly emanated apprehension and fear, although sparks of joy would flicker up from the back of his mind. Whatever he was thinking about ran much deeper than anything his stereotypical playboy nature could account for.

She led the way into her room, turning on the too-bright light for Speedy's sake. Whenever she had company, it was standard procedure to let their needs overshadow her own—most people, with Aqualad and Jinx excluded, were most comfortable talking in a well-lit room.

"So," she started, waving her hand to move two seats to the middle of the room. She sank into one of them, gesturing for him to sit in the other.

Roy obliged, but twisted the chair so it wasn't directly facing her, and then swung one leg over the other.

"Want to explain what's wrong?" she asked after a moment, yanking down her hood. Another thing that made people more comfortable was being able to see her face, and her expressions.

Speedy was studying his entwined fingers, lips pursed. "It's…" He looked up, an apologetic grimace set in his features. "I… don't know where to start, actually."

Raven studied his face; even though he wasn't used to talking to her, he seemed to have dropped all masks—the figurative ones, at least—and let the self-conscious, unsure side show through. She knew he cared about appearances, but… maybe he only cared about keeping his weakness hidden around people he was close to. That was probably what he was talking about before, when he mentioned Bumblebee and Robin.

"Do you have a problem?" she asked, starting out simply.

Speedy's mask quirked as his brow beneath it did the same. "Yeah, that's why I'm here. Isn't that obvious?"

"We're starting with the basics," she clarified. "Does this problem involve you, or does it involve other people?"

"It involves me…" He stood, stretched, and wandered to the edge of the room. Examining a bookshelf with odds and ends of spells on it, he continued. "But it kind of involves other people. Well, one other person, unless you count what happened before…"

When it became obvious he wouldn't go on without prompting, she spoke. "What do you mean, 'what happened before'?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, looking over his shoulder before taking a sideways step, continuing down the shelf. "I don't know what I meant."

"All right, then… You said the problem lies between you and another per—"

"Not really _between_…" He fingered a glass ball, holding it up to the light. "More like… _from_ me, _about_ the other person."

"Who is it?"

He set the orb on its original stand, turning toward Raven again. He leaned back on the shelf, palms on the edge, skin tense and white over his knuckles.

"Let me explain first," he chuckled, the anxiety returning to his tone. "You have to know, I have a bit of a… reputation when it comes to dating. I'm not the biggest puritan, and… well, I'm downright lewd at times."

Raven raised a hand, stopping him. "Don't tell me you got some poor girl pregnant."

"No, nothing like that—I may sleep around, but I take precautions!" He held his smile for a moment, but then his expression fell again. "See, if I had a kid… it'd be much simpler than my current problem."

"Which, speaking of, is what, exactly?"

Roy winced, crossing his arms, lowering his head to examine the floor. "Well, like I was saying, I get around a bit. But after a while, I started to realize that I…" He licked his lips, a nervous twitch. "I realized that it all kind of… bored me. It was just one whiny girl after another, and none of them wanted to actually talk to me. They only wanted my body, and sex."

He jerked his head up. "Which was totally okay by me, at least at first. I had similar motives; the women were beautiful, sophisticated, trendy, with immaculate bodies and experience in that, mh, field of work."

Raven thought it amusing that his panic disappeared when he talked about sex, as if he was discussing the weather or a training schedule. And then the amusement vanished as he fell back into the rut of tension.

"So, like I said, I got bored. I just… couldn't enjoy those shallow conversations and repeated dinner dates that would inevitably lead to a one-night stand." He stopped a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "God, this is gonna sound stupid…"

"Go ahead anyway," she urged. "Speedy, you came all this way and explained that much to me already."

He let out a noncommittal, "Hnh," just staring at the floor, probably mulling over the unutterable confession that he was about to make. "Well…"

After a moment had passed, Raven frowned. "This shouldn't be so hard."

"But it _is_," he laughed, peeling off his mask to rub his eyes. "All right, just… don't say anything until I'm done. Okay?"

She nodded; "Sure."

"Since it was all so dull, I got away from the club scene and stayed at the Tower a lot. I started reading bedtime stories to the twins and cooking and helping clean… chores, pretty much."

Raven nodded again when he looked up at her, a slight smile of encouragement in her expression.

He swallowed hard and then went on. "Given the fact that usually only one person does the chores a day, with me helping—and eventually others, just to make it a true joint effort—everything got done so much quicker. We all had so much time on our hands, which meant that every day Bee would be out shopping or going to the movies with Cy, or I don't know what—but she was busy. The twins would play video games, which tied up the big-screen so I couldn't watch anything in hi-def, and anything _not_ hi-def wasn't worth watching. That left me to train, but then that got boring… so I started hanging out with Mr. I'm-the-banished-prince-of-Atlantis, and… we actually got along surprisingly well."

He stopped again, looking at Raven once more. Her expression had darkened slightly, having a feeling for what he was going to end up saying.

"Anyway, we started talking—actual conversations, not just arguments, like we had before. I found out that he really likes 'surface world music,' as he calls it, and doesn't just swim all day. We talked about Steel City sports teams and players, and books and movies, ice cream flavors… _everything_, kind of.

"And then," he continued, eyes narrowing as he played with his mask, stretching it in front of him. "We were invited to dinner by the mayor of Steel. He has a daughter, and she is the biggest Aqualad fan you could _ever_ meet. She sat next to him the entire time, ogling and giggling, just elated to be there. And it was strange… because I felt extraordinarily jealous."

"Of the attention?" Raven asked, already knowing the answer.

Roy shook his head. "Of the little girl. She wasn't even nine, I think, and I felt _jealous_ of her. After that, when I talked to Aqualad, I knew something had changed. It was like I was protecting him, or something… Like I was keeping him from interacting with other people. I just wanted him to talk to me, _only_ me…"

Speedy exhaled, biting his cheek, still for a long moment. "And he looked different, too. Blatantly male, of course; he wasn't effeminate in the least. But somehow, I saw him as... striking. Somewhere, in some far-off corner of my head, I think I knew he was a naturally good-looking Atlantean prince—I just didn't acknowledge it, because it didn't matter. But now…"

"But now, it does?"

Sea-green eyes lifted to meet Raven's face. He opened his mouth, but nothing more than an uncertain breath escaped it.

"I guess it does," he said after another minute. "It's just that I see him every day, and there's this weird attraction that I now hold for him… But he's a _man_, and if my past doesn't account for me being straight then I don't know what could."

"Maybe you just don't remember what actual attraction feels like?"

Speedy considered it, tilting his head to one side, then to the other. "You think I'm desensitized to 'actual attraction'?"

Raven shrugged, fingering the edge of her hood. "It's a possibility. How long has it been since you truly cared about someone you were with, in more than just a sexual manner?"

She raised a careful brow, watching as the mix of emotions spluttered through his expression. "I don't… _care_ for that gill-faced…!" he protested, gaping openmouthed at her. "I am _not_ fucking _gay_, Raven!"

"Maybe you aren't. But I'm sure you considered it at one point, right?"

He closed his mouth, forehead creased into dark lines. "And then I immediately dismissed the thought!"

"Because it wasn't ideal?"

Speedy didn't answer; his face had gone utterly blank, a rather deer-in-the-headlights sort of look in his eyes. Without warning, he dropped to the ground, back against the cabinets, one elbow resting on a propped-up knee.

"What if I _am_ a queer?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "I suppose you'd live an utterly normal life, with the exception being that you're a superhero and most people are not."

He sent a glare at her, frowning. "No, I mean… think about it. I have a… a crush, let's say… on a guy." He smirked, looking at her. "That doesn't bother me nearly as much as I thought it would."

"Is your problem solved, then?"

That was the wrong question to ask, to say the least. Roy groaned, pulling his legs up, his arms on his knees. He rested his head on his forearms and, scrunching up his face, let out another muffled grunt.

"I don't know," he finally muttered, lifting his head. "I don't think I _like_ him any more than usual. He's just taking over my head… every little thing has some connection to him. It's… inescapable."

Taking a breath, Speedy hoisted himself to his feet, picking up his mask and putting it back over his eyes. "Thanks for wasting your time on me," he murmured awkwardly, shuffling toward the door. "I guess you must get pretty tired of hearing people's problems."

"I like to know what's going on," Raven answered, standing as well. "It's no problem."

"Well," he said conclusively. "That's that, then?"

"Apparently."

He reached for the panel; he had one foot in the hallway when he paused to turn. "Raven?"

She flicked off the lights, running a hand through her hair. "Yes?"

"Can I come over here to talk again, if I need to?"

Her eyes widened the slightest bit. "I'm sure Bee would be more than happy to talk to you, but if you feel more comfortable here… like I said, it's no problem for me."

Speedy nodded, and then disappeared down the hall with a wave.

Raven sighed, flicking a lazy hand toward the chairs, stacking them against the wall again. She flounced down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, still trying to get over the initial shock of Speedy's possible attraction to Aqualad.

Her thoughts trailed on to what would happen if Aqualad ever returned the feelings, and then she—selfishly—wondered where, exactly, she would fit into the equation. But then her eyes caught on a small spider at the edge of the ceiling that was dangling from its conjured web, and she remembered that she was supposed to be completing a write-up on yesterday's break-in by none other than Fang, Mr. Spiderlegs himself.

As she left the room in a hurry, the tiny spider blinked its many eyes, relieved to know that no one had noticed the little green arachnid sitting on the wall.


	2. Antagonism of Self

**Volte-Face**

Egads, I got two reviews in one day? Well, since I have a second chapter all up-and-ready, I'm going to be an idiot and post it prematurely...

**Xment2bursX**-- I was going for 'detailed,' actually. I'm glad I accomplished it...

**Destiny Lot**-- Don't worry, I'm going to, and probably much sooner than you'd expect!

I do hope some more people read this, whether or not they choose to review. Anyone else who read it, thank you. I hope you'll continue to read this and enjoy it as much as possible.

I'm not one for long author's notes, if you haven't figured. I guess I don't have much to say, or maybe I don't want to waste any more time before I let you on to the actual chapter. Regardless…

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"If everything on earth were rational, nothing would happen."  
—Feodor Dostoevski

Aqualad had painted Bumblebee's nails, tucked the kids into bed and made slight progress in the ever-growing mountain of dishes that had somehow enlarged since three hours previous. And although it was simply a bargain with the two boys to get them into bed, he had even donned an apron, much to Bumblebee—and her camera's—delight.

And Roy still wasn't back.

Currently, Garth sat at the edge of his pool, feet trailing in the water. The sun had set hours ago, and Speedy had only left the Tower an hour before that. It only took a few minutes to get there, thanks to warpholes set up by Herald… and how long was the archer going to talk to Raven, anyway?

Aqualad groaned, leaning back on his elbows. His eyes absently followed the reflections of the ripples on the ceiling; it was late, he was tired, and if he hadn't planned on telling Speedy off he would've been in bed long ago.

He sighed, collapsing flat on his back, legs going limp. He stretched out his arms, reaching to the side as far as possible before clasping his hands over his stomach.

It wasn't that Garth had a problem with his teammates speaking with Raven. That didn't bother him at all—rather, it was the fact that Speedy, hothead extraordinaire, didn't feel enough at ease just to talk to his own team about his problems.

Because he obviously had problems, and they must've been serious, at least to him. Roy was too proud to ask for help if it was anything little, or even anything big as long as it wasn't life-threatening. And the fact that he went to Raven, noted Titan counselor, made it even more suspicious—those two weren't the closest pair, and other than rolling her eyes at Speedy's innuendos, they didn't communicate.

Aqualad closed his eyes and squirmed an inch to the right. It also concerned him because of his relation to the archer, mostly as a teammate but also as—in his opinion—a friend. Sure, he and Speedy hated each other at times, but in the past few weeks it seemed as if Roy was really trying to get to know him. Aqualad had certainly gotten a deeper look at Roy, although there _was_ a certain limit to how personal the redhead let him get.

Maybe that's what the visit to Raven was about—something personal, something that Speedy didn't feel comfortable sharing with his team.

Garth scoffed, sitting up, rubbing his eyes. If Speedy didn't get there soon, he'd just give up until morning. Maybe he was planning on staying the night, or hitting a few bars to check out a different pool of women.

A sudden, light pressure on his back made a shiver go through his veins, but he had little time to think before the foot shoved him forward, plunging him into the water. Garth felt himself go all the way under and instinctively turned, clawing for the tile rim. His head broke the surface and he shoved dark hair out of his face, glaring at the perpetrator.

Speedy stood a few feet away, foot slightly raised, hands in his pockets and a defiantly smug look on his face. His crooked, easy grin only widened at the Atlantean's glare.

"Waiting up for me, honey?"

Garth wiped the water from his face with a hand, propping his elbows over the edge. "Yes, _darling_—now, was that absolutely necessary?"

Speedy thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, pretty much." He bent slightly, extending a hand.

The dark-haired teen didn't move. "You know you're asking for it, right?"

"Asking for wh—"

Before he could finish the question, Aqualad grabbed his entire arm, yanking him toward the pool. Roy barely had time to let out the customary string of expletives before he fell gracelessly into the water, twisting and kicking and sending bubbles everywhere.

"Asking for _that_," Garth clarified with a grin when the telltale red hair burst through the surface again. "Gods, Speedy, I didn't think you'd fall for a trick that brainless."

Mask askew, Roy coughed out water, treading to the edge. "The only thing," he grunted, shoving Aqualad out of the way, "that I have to do with brainless tricks is that they're easier to coerce than intellectuals."

"Were you born with your mind in the gutter, or did some past incident get it stuck there?"

Roy pushed himself out of the pool and stood a few feet from the edge, toeing off his shoes. "What? Oh, I don't know. What are you doing up this late anyway?"

"Waiting to talk to you."

Speedy froze halfway through peeling off his sodden mask, one exposed green eye wide in confusion. A second later, though, he went back to being utterly composed, completely unruffled. "Really," was all he said.

"Yes—and unfortunately, you ran late." His tone was accusing but his amused expression told differently.

"Sorry," Roy chuckled, sloshing toward the kitchen. He yanked a few dishtowels from a drawer and lobbed some to the Atlantean. "Didn't know I had a curfew."

Aqualad ignored the towels and adjusted his arms on the edge, folding them on the cool, slick tiles. "I just wanted to ask you why you went to Raven."

He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a kitchen stool. "Felt like talking."

"To her."

"Yes, to _her_." Roy cocked his head, rubbing down one leg with the tiny dishtowel. "Why does it matter?"

The dark-haired prince elegantly climbed from the water, putting a towel around his neck to keep his hair from dripping. "Maybe I'd rather you talk to your own teammates about it. It doesn't have to be me, but I don't think the twins are quite to your level of maturity, so you might be stuck with Bee."

An exasperated expression had made its way across the archer's face. "Maybe—"

"No, listen to me first," Aqualad said tersely, starting toward the hallway. "You and Raven don't get along, and even if you secretly do you've never been over there for a chat session. When you suddenly decide to go over and, I don't know, confess some dark secrets, it makes us feel like you really don't trust us."

Speedy raised a brow. "Who's 'us'?"

"Well, me. Bumblebee won't admit it, but I think she feels the same. And even the twins were making remarks about it!"

"What about _your_ little excursions with Raven?" Ex-apprentices of Green Arrow did _not_ get backed into a corner. "And Bee's, too! Why is my one-time talk of any importance?"

They were in the 'bedroom wing' of the Tower now, their argument lowered to hisses.

"Because it's never happened before! What's going on that you can't tell us?"

Roy stopped in front of his door, arms crossed. "Nothing's going on!"

"So what did you talk to Raven about?" The twisted, knowing smirk on Garth's face looked unnatural.

Roy opened his mouth, eyes narrowed, but then he paused. "Well…"

"Exactly! Speedy, if you can't open up to your own teammates, how can—"

The archer slammed a fist into the panel at the side of the door, shooting a glare over his shoulder. "There are some things that you can't know about me. I'm sure it's the same for you, or the twins, or Bee." He stepped through the door when it opened. "Go get some Atlantean beauty slumber, and stop freaking over the details."

"Details?" Garth caught the door before it slid shut. "If your own teammates can't know something, why can a distant, barely-acknowledged Titan know it?"

He turned, slight surrender written into his eyes. "Maybe it doesn't have to do with her."

"You were talking to Raven about _us_?" His laugh was cynical. "That's makes it even worse! If you have a problem with one of us, what good will it do talking to—"

"Forget I said anything," Roy muttered, pressing the red _door close_ button on the keypad. "It honestly shouldn't matter to you."

"Speedy—" Garth stopped the door again, this time stepping over its track into the bedroom. "Stop that. It matters because I like to be informed about my friends."

"I'm not your friend," Roy growled, peeling off his wet shirt as he retreated to the back of the room.

Aqualad persisted. "We're still teammates." He inched after the stubborn redhead, cautious to keep a good distance.

Roy didn't reply; he pitched his shirt toward an overflowing laundry basket and yanked open a drawer, rummaging for another shirt. Eventually, he found one, and slipped it over his head. While he tried to find a replacement mask, he glowered at Garth, lips set in a frown.

"Are you going to leave, or what?"

"Are you going stop being evasive, or what?" he countered.

A sneer plastered itself on Speedy's face. He abruptly faced Aqualad, rapidly coming closer. The dark-haired boy backed up out of surprise and found himself caught against a shelf, with the door too far to his left to quickly reach.

"Speedy—"

"It's midnight, Aqualad," he said, voice rumbling menacingly at the back of his throat. He was too close, masked eyes inches from the opposing violet visage, one arm extended so his hand pressed against the shelf. "And I'm not in a good mood."

Garth set his jaw and folded his arms. "Yes, well, I stayed up far past a desirable time just to speak with you about something personal, and you refuse to say a word. I'm in a worse mood, trust me."

"Then get"—he leaned closer—"out."

Aqualad's lips twitched into sardonic grin and he leaned closer as well, contemptuous smile mere millimeters away from Roy's gritted teeth. "_No_."

Something about it elicited a strange reaction from the archer; his brows rose, stretching the white of the mask, and he shoved away from the wall with a spin and a low oath. A hand raked through his damp hair, his angry expression wholly dropped. He stormed into the bathroom, kicking open the door without regard to the sleeping members of the team, slamming with equal force.

Garth narrowed his eyes and let out a breath. He could hear the shower sputtering to life—any chance of talking to Speedy was gone, at least until morning. But they _would_ talk in the morning, no doubt, and Aqualad _would_ manage to extricate some vital confession from the archer—he wouldn't have it any other way.


	3. Turbulence

**Volte-Face**

I'm very attached to this story now. There are so many events I want to put in, but there's no way all, or even most, will make it. For example, this chapter was absolutely different the first time I wrote it, and then the second version was even more drastic a change. Lastly, there is a third version, which you are about to read.

About the quotes at the beginning of each chapter… they don't quite correspond to the chapter that follows them, although if you look for it there _is_ some logic in how I pick them. Eventually, they'll make a bit more sense, if they don't already.

Thank you…  
**Aime Atem Itsumo- **I think I like _yay_s better... (I love that movie!)  
**Xment2bursX**- Ah, yes, that he-has-him-against-a-wall dilemma: to kiss, or not to kiss! Well, then, you might enjoy this chapter-- we shall see!

And I know more of you are reading this! Over forty people read the second chapter, and yet only two of them reviewed. Of course, I appreciate the lone fact that you're reading this, but everyone loves feedback… right? Right?

_Anyway_, onto the chapter!

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"I don't care anything about reasons, but I know what I like."  
—Henry James

It was a similar scene, and Roy was even more riled.

"It's midnight, Aqualad," he growled, extending both arms to the wall. Garth was trapped, but he didn't seem flustered. "And I'm not in a good mood."

A haunting smirk found its way to the Atlantean's face. He looked unnaturally pale, gaunt, a ghost in the dim light. "Neither am I," he grinned, leaning into Speedy. "So let's you and I not argue. Someone would get hurt."

"Someone _would_ get hurt," he agreed, closing the distance until only a fraction of space separated them. "So get out."

Aqualad's grin didn't fade; he moved to the side, cheek skimming Speedy's, lips at the archer's ear. "_No_." His fingers crept up the other side of Roy's neck and lightly wrapped around the back, pulling forward. "You know why?"

The slight touch made Speedy shiver. The feeling in his veins was new—he felt hot and cold at the same time, and immense amount of pleasure mixed with unsatisfied desire. The thrill flared when Garth turned his head to skim his lips on the underside of his jaw. Roy forced back a guttural moan and swallowed, head tipped back, breath caught high in his lungs.

"I'm staying," Aqualad continued, breath warm on Roy's neck, "because I'm a masochist." His mouth trailed down the archer's jawbone. "I _want_ to get hurt," he specified, lips at the corner of Roy's mouth. Speedy turned his head, inclining forward the meet his mouth with Garth's, but the dark-haired boy pulled just out of reach.

Speedy felt Aqualad's other hand reaching around his neck, his fingers entwining and locking together. Violet eyes smoldered up through long, black lashes, staring into the whites of the mask, and Aqualad finally kissed his mouth. Roy felt teeth graze gently over his bottom lip and he couldn't hold back the rasping, heavy breath of lust.

He felt Garth's laugh on his cheek, but its meaning didn't register. Speedy was too caught up in controlling himself.

"C'mon, Roy," he murmured, and Speedy clenched his fists at his side. He never had thought of that voice being seductive but, _god_, it was hard to keep a clear head. It became even harder when both of the Atlantean's hands slid into his hair, grabbing the back and pulling. Lips traced up the front of his neck when he tipped his head back, pressing light kisses against his Adam's apple. "Take it, or leave it…"

Speedy swallowed again, indignant but quickly losing his will to resist. The hands were gone from his head now; they slid down his shoulders and chest, slowing as they crept lower. Speedy found Garth's eyes again and they were just as eerie, with a rather devilish glint in them.

"C'mon, Roy," Aqualad murmured again, the tips of his fingers slipping under the elastic of Roy's boxers, cold hands against heated skin. Speedy bit his lip and inhaled to smother a whimper. Dissatisfied, Aqualad narrowed his eyes and pressed his hands further downward. The slightest of touches caught Roy's veins on fire and he cried out hoarsely, searing need hammering against his pulse.

The sound of his own voice thrust him back into reality; Roy flung himself upright, face flushed and limbs shaking. The clarity of the dream hung in his mind and he could feel the cold hands running down the front of his torso, taunting his will with every inch.

Speedy tore himself from the bed, stumbling. He felt sore and unsteady, and an uncomfortable tautness in his lower half made his head feel foggy.

A glimpse at the clock made him stop short. It was barely five a.m.—usually he woke up at noon, or later. But he didn't want to go back to sleep, he _couldn't_—not if Aqualad was going to be in his subconscious again, alluring and bold.

_A shower_, Roy reasoned, beginning to move again. _A_ cold _shower._

xXx

On a typical day, Aqualad would be the first to wake, and so he got saddled with making breakfast. He wasn't the best cook, but he was the only one willing—or conscious enough—to actually make something edible.

But today, he realized when he stepped through the hydraulic doors into the main room, was _not_ a typical day. The strong, sweet scent of pancake batter hit him first, followed by the greasy undertone of bacon and eggs. A moment later the stove's buzzer went off, ringing for two seconds before a quick hand switched it off.

Aqualad wandered toward the kitchen in silence. It was such a rare sight, to see Speedy awake and mobile this early in the morning. Even rarer was the sight of him cooking an entire breakfast.

He stood a few feet back, practically drooling as another, warmer smell mingled with the others: chocolate muffins. Speedy pulled them out of the oven, taking a whiff and humming, pleased, while he set them on the counter.

Roy started looking for something on the counter—it was the spatula, Garth realized, and it was laying on the counter closest to him. Aqualad reached for it, about to speak when Speedy turned.

"_Shit!_" Roy tripped backwards over himself in abrupt surprise, reaching back before he fell. He grabbed the corner of the stove, but still off-balance he fell onto it, forearm landing squarely on a hot burner. Agony sliced across his skin and he shoved away from it, landing crumpled on the floor.

"Speedy?" Garth leaned over the divider. "You oka—"

"Don't fucking sneak up on me when I'm cooking!" the archer roared, clambering to his feet. He grabbed away the spatula, teeth gritted.

"Sorry, I didn't expect you to have a seiz—"

"Just go _away_!"

Aqualad raised a careful brow, finally actually looking at his teammate. The redhead's face was pale but somehow flushed with a light sheen of sweat, and his eyes were wide, nervous. "Speedy, is something wrong?"

"No," he replied curtly, spinning back to the stove. He grabbed for a plate and scooped an omelet onto it.

"You look sick," Garth persisted, stepping around the counter to stand beside the stove. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fucking _great_." He cracked two more eggs into the pan, poking them as they sizzled. Nodding his head toward the steaming omelet, he said, "That's yours. Ham, bacon, cheese, tons of pepper and garlic sprinkled on top."

Aqualad gawked at him. Something _had_ to be wrong—even when he _did_ cook, Speedy never made things to suit each teammate. He just wasn't that considerate, especially at the crack of dawn.

Roy jerked away when a hand touched his forehead. "What the he—"

"You're jumpy," Aqualad surmised, more to himself than anything. "And cold."

"I'm fine. Go eat."

Aqualad sighed and took the omelet, scooping up a fork as well. So much for progress.

But he didn't sit down at the table to eat. He sat on the counter a few feet away from Speedy, watching him cook with a careful eye, waiting for him to speak again. When it became clear that he was too engrossed in cooking to start up a conversation, Garth took the liberty.

"Did you burn your arm?" he wondered, spearing another piece of omelet.

"Probably."

"Is it bad?" Aqualad popped the cheesy bit into his mouth, chewing slowly.

"Probably not." He took another plate, sticking the second omelet on it.

"Want me to look at it?"

"No." Roy turned off the stove and picked up the second plate and a muffin.

Aqualad deliberated while he chewed—Speedy still looked pale and unhealthy, but there wasn't much he could do. "This is _really_ good." Watching the archer wander away from him, he swallowed. "Where are you going?"

"This is Bee's—ow, _fuck_!" Speedy nearly threw the plate onto the table, grabbing at his arm, clutching it to himself. "Dammit..."

Aqualad spun around, hopping from his perch. "Your arm?"

"Maybe."

Garth grabbed his wrist. "Let me see." Turning it one way, and then the other, he nodded. "Pretty nasty. My fault, sorry… c'mon, let's go get it cleaned up."

_C'mon, Roy…_

Speedy yanked away to free his arm, grimacing slightly but not distinctly caring about the pain. "I can clean it myself."

Smirking, Aqualad shook his head. "There's no way you can wrap gauze with one arm. And you need gauze on that, trust me."

Roy let out a slow breath, staring down at his arm. He wished Garth would just stop talking—every word brought back the sultry tones of his dream, and being close to that angular face didn't help. He didn't even want him to smile, because whenever Aqualad's lips twitched crookedly up, Speedy could feel something tearing in his chest—an aching, longing feeling that made him uneasy.

"Spe—"

"Bee won't get her breakfast."

Garth smiled, knowing that the resistance had deteriorated.

"Hell, _fine_," Speedy answered quickly, cradling his injured arm with the other. "Lead the way."


	4. Further Entanglement

**Volte-Face**

This is going to be _the_ longest Author's Note I've ever written, for a number of reasons. My thank-you's has extended quite a bit (because a few of you are getting The Great American Novel), and now with this super-alert system I can see everyone who liked this story enough to favorite either it, me, or both, without the usual hassle of clicking the "Stats" button.

If you want to skip this entire section, feel free, although you should skim for your name in bold—I may have something to say to you. But if not, there's a big line with a quote under it which starts the story. You can't miss it.

And so we begin. Thank you…  
**Xment2bursX**- I squealed while writing it… No, that's a lie! I may have been squealing, but I was horribly embarrassed by it and turned red… (giggles)

**FlamersRockAndYouKnowIt**- Yes, I call this piece of shit a story. And apparently, you call your piece of shit a flame. If you want to be a FlameRising poseur, feel free, but at least stop flaming fics merely because they don't have pairings you like. (You've flamed two other stories of mine, I believe—they were both Speedy-Aqualad. I've gotten an equally-good laugh from all of your idiocy, though, so please continue with it.)

**ferretgirl-1124**- THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! I absolutely cannot express how happy I was to see that you not only read this story, but enjoyed it. Something-or-another of yours actually started my obsession for Garth-Roy and yaoi as a whole. (I can't remember the exact story. I read one, and then the same day I charged through the rest… Well, it was most likely _Heat Wave_…) Thank you for that, too! And then there's the whole 'inspiration' thing—I checked to see if you'd updated _School and Skirts_ and came across a new _Of Archers and Atlanteans_, so naturally I clicked it… And firstly, I must say that it was amazing, just like all the others (which I read through, _again_, so now "Malchik Gay" is stuck in my head!) only more hot-n-sticky, but I nearly couldn't read it because I pretty much _fainted_ when you blamed _my fanfic_ for the level of smexiness. (I pretty much had a conniption fit, truth be told.) And with your little 'go read it!' command, the number of views has doubled, if not tripled, so I also thank you for that! (takes a deep breath) …O_kay_! That's enough of me being a raving lunatic—let's move on!  
P.S. You _must_ update _School and Skirts_. It's too tempting, the promise of Garth in drag… and wearing bras… and _not_ biting people's knees… So! Although I'm usually a closet-worshipper of fanfics and never review, if you update that fic I'll put my gushing into electronic form as much as possible. Pwease:3

**Sugar-Hype-Queen**- That's the first time someone's said that about anything I've written… (sniff) Thank you!

**Katie Drake**- I hope the plot continues at a 'fantastic pace'—this chapter is a sort of lull, though…

Now, more thank-yous! (I _told_ you this was going to be long…!) For adding this story/me to a favorite/alert, I'd like to give my thanks (in no particular order) to…  
**Aime Atem Itsumo  
Xment2bursX  
Messenger of Light**- I _totally_ blame _you_ for my inability to write on Saturday! I opened an e-mail and saw the alert message, so being stalker-ish I went to your profile and browsed a few things (hehe). And then I got swept up into your Favorites list, and since all of those HP stories seemed appetizing I went and read through a majority of them, stopping only when Silverness's fic made me burst into tears. (stomps on meanie Harry) So, um, I hope you learned your lesson…? xD  
**ferretgirl-1124  
Destiny Lot  
Katie Drake  
xxxpheonix-girlxxx**- You didn't actually put in an alert or anything, but you said that this was a good fanfic in your review for _Of Archers and Atlanteans_ (I'm really creepy sometimes…), so I have to thank you as well. :3

Now that we're past all the not-so-wasted space, I'm going to finally get to the chapter! If I ever have another long comment, I'm _so_ putting at the _end_ of the chapter…

Oh, and excuse any editing mistakes. For some reason, my eyes weren't catching things...

* * *

"I know that you believe that you understood what you think I said, but I am not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant."  
—Robert McCloskey 

"You _lied_ to me?"

Garth shrugged in reply to the accusation, expression light but eyes concentrated. "Maybe if you had paid attention in that First Aid course, you would have realized that tight things like gauze only serve to irritate a burn. And how else would I have gotten you to actually sit down and look at me?"

But truth be told, Roy _hadn't_ looked at Garth. The entire time the dark-haired prince had held his arm under cool water—'to stop the burning process'—and toweled it off, Roy hadn't been able to look at his face without feeling guilty. The tinge of red had faded from his face after some time, but he was still overly conscious of the fact that his ears were on fire, vibrant red at the tips. Speedy simply wanted an escape.

Although, he wasn't completely against Aqualad's ministrations. His whole arm tingled at the feeling of Garth's fingers kneading the ointment into his skin. The balm itself was numbing, peppermint, and as both boys breathed in its fumes they relaxed, if only slightly.

"I still find it hard to believe I fell for it," Speedy continued on after an extended pause. His eyes were closed, more to avoid the gaze of his teammate than anything; but after he thought for a second he opened them. "But why did you want to sit me down?"

Garth's brow creased and the circles his thumbs were making on Roy's forearm slowed. "I thought it was obvious."

Eyes still closed, he shook his head.

"I still want to talk to you. Just because you can shirk a conversation once, it doesn't mean I'll drop the subject." His stare suddenly intensified. "And speaking of which, why did you run off so quickly last night? You looked like you got electrocuted, or something."

Speedy inwardly winced; he could still feel that burst shooting into his mind, threading through his veins, a voice in the back of his head whispering _kiss him now_ so compellingly that he nearly gave in. Garth had just been so close, and his vibrant eyes were so livid… the passion behind the expression, even if it was violence rather than infatuation, drove his head to the brink.

But Roy couldn't just… _kiss_ him. Not even in his dreams did he just give in, inhibitions aside, and let the moment take him. It would be wrong—he couldn't do that. At least, not to Garth. He knew him too well and would have to suffer the consequences of having a guilty conscience.

"Speedy, did you fall asleep?"

Jerking his eyes open, the archer shot Garth a look and a sneer. But as soon as their eyes met he looked away again, turning his head down and then closing his eyes.

"Are you going to answer, or are you just going to sit there?"

"What do _you_ think?"

Aqualad let out a submissive sigh. Roy squirmed a bit, the rush of warm air tickling the skin that wasn't coated in goop. "I think you're just going to sit there…"

Speedy grinned.

"…but I wish you wouldn't." Garth sighed again, finally dropping Roy's arm. Screwing the lid on the ointment jar, he continued in a feeble, dejected tone. "I suppose there's nothing wrong with talking to Raven instead of your own teammates about something that's personal. I thought about it, and I can see where you're coming from, with the whole 'if-she-knows-about-me-it's-okay-because-I-don't-have-to-deal-with-her-all-the-time' angle."

Roy watched his movements closely, brow creased. "But…?"

Aqualad stood to put the jar back into the cabinet. "But you said it's a problem about us. Not her, _us_. I don't understand how talking to her is going to solve—"

"Hold on," Speedy said quickly. "I never said it was a _problem_."

"It just involves us, then? Speedy, it still doesn't mean you should avoid the topic with everyone who's close to you!" Aqualad leaned back on the counter, shaking his head and staring at the floor. His lips pursed together before he absently bit the lower one.

"_What_?" Roy finally asked, putting one elbow on the bed's railing.

"Nothing. You're just a very cold person."

"Well, you're just a very _blunt_ person!"

Aqualad stood upright, turning to rifle through the cabinets again. "No, I mean it. You're cold. You don't trust anyone, and that's not fair."

He scoffed. "Fair?"

"I'd willingly tell you my entire background. The twins and Bumblebee would do the same. I'm sure if you asked, anyone from Titans West would tell you theirs, or any of the _million_ _other_ honorary Titans! Even Jinx, bad-witch-turned-good, would politely tell you her background! Sure, it would be dark, and she's probably ashamed of it, but she would still open up to people!"

"And I wouldn't?" Roy guessed, though it wasn't actually a question.

"Not at all." Aqualad pulled a small, clear white instrument from the shelf he was going through and ran water over it for a minute before returning to Roy's side. "Here."

Speedy jerked back when the cold metal prodded between his lips. "What—"

"It's a thermometer," Garth explained, sitting on the bed across from him. "You still look pale; keep it under your tongue, and close your mouth."

Roy rolled his eyes but obeyed regardless while Aqualad charged on with his rant.

"It's not fair that you'd keep things from us. The only things we really know about you are trivial things, like the fact you're obsessive about grooming and always have a comb on you, or your coincidental love for seafood."

"M-mh!" came Roy's indignant grunt.

"Well, fine," he amended, "we know a bit more than that. But do you get my point? I don't think you trust your teammates! How do you think I feel, going into battle knowing that the person I'm fighting with won't depend on me if he makes a mistake?"

The thermometer beeped, and as soon as he yanked it from his mouth Roy smirked; "I thought we were talking about an 'us,' not an 'I' and a 'me.'"

Aqualad tore the device from his hand, ignoring his comment. "You have a fever."

"I bet you're lying again." He turned the screen around, but a clear _101.4_ stared back at him. "Well, I don't _feel_ sick…"

"Not yet, you don't. But _really_, Speedy, couldn't you just talk to one of us?" His eyes turned pleading, and Roy knew without consideration that with that look, Garth could make him do anything. "At least talk to Bee about it. As long as I know you told _some_one …"

"If I do, will you stop harassing me?"

Garth tipped his head to one side, lightly gnawing on his lip again. "You know, I—"

A shrill ring echoed through the room, amplified by the emptiness. Roy dove for the source, a small cellphone on the counter, but Garth got it first. He flipped it open, reading the caller ID with a smirk. "Raven, huh? And this early in the morning, too…" He pressed a button, holding it to the side of his face. "Hello?"

There was a second of silence, and then an explosion so loud that Speedy could hear it. "RAVEN, AQUALAD HAS HIS PHONE! HE _HAS_ HIS _PHONE_!"

"Beast Boy?" Garth chuckled. "I don't _have_ his phone; we're just in the same room, and I—"

"THEY'RE IN THE SAME ROOM, RAVEN! THE _SAME ROOM!_"

Roy grabbed the phone away from the startled Atlantean. "Listen, you little dipshit—"

"Speedy?" It was Raven's voice now. "Beast Boy found out."

There were still shouts in the background from the changeling, but Roy ignored them. "What do you mean?"

"He was in my room during out little talk. He was a"—she paused, and Roy heard a _twak_ and a male whimper—"a spider on my wall, apparently."

"He—wait, _what_?" Roy stood, kicking a wheeled cart as he paced the length of the Infirmary. Every heartbeat was quicker than the previous one. His pulse hammered angrily through his veins, shortening his breath, making his blood catch fire. "You mean, he was listening? He _knows_?"

"GAY, GAY, GA—" Another _twak_ silenced the background song. Roy wished to every deity that Garth hadn't heard.

As if she needed to spell it out, Raven sighed and murmured a simple, "Yes."

"What's going on?" Aqualad asked as Roy turned to pace the other way. His angular features were set in a worried frown, all previous emotions gone. "Speedy, what is she saying?"

"_Fuck_," Roy groaned, sinking onto the third bed. "And here I thought we'd be safe in your room, out of the way. No one would be there, no one would interrupt—"

"Did you and Raven—?"

"He wants to talk to you now," Raven continued in what was nearly a monotone voice. Roy swallowed nervously, his face flushed with a cold sweat; Garth heard the gulp and his expression contorted further.

"Speedy—"

"Now? Over the phone?"

Garth caught the anxious glance Roy threw at him and felt his stomach clench. A new sensation gripped his body, like he was falling from some high zenith into a bottomless hole. "Speedy…?"

"No, not over the phone. But he's been up all night, thinking about it—I guess he's in shock. He wants you to come here."

Roy shook his head. "I can't."

Both Raven and Garth kept silent, giving Speedy time to actually think. On one hand, it would be a waste of time to go all the way out to Titans West. He would miss any emergency calls his own Tower received, and Bee would probably grill him for leaving so unexpectedly. Plus, the rides there and back were always so boring.

On the other hand, Beast Boy might get too excited and tell someone. It would also get Roy away from the Tower, which meant he'd be free of not only going on emergency calls, but also free of Aqualad. He wouldn't have to deal with _You have a fever!_ and _You should talk to Bee!_ sort of remarks. And if he _did_ go, he could always have another meeting with Raven.

"Well, it's your—"

"Raven, I think I might actually come." He glanced at the clock. "I'll be there in about twenty minutes."

"Thank you," she answered, and then the line clicked and buzzed.

Roy folded the phone, slipping it into his pocket—Garth was _never_ going to answer it for him again. He was lucky Beast Boy had contained himself while the Atlantean was on the line.

"Speedy…?" Aqualad's voice cracked hoarsely between the syllables. "What's going on?"

Roy looked at him for the first time in minutes and found himself shaken by the distress written into his teammate's face. He couldn't find his voice; his throat felt abruptly raw. A nail of guilt rammed into his skull for causing an expression like that, and once again he felt powerless against those bleak, violet eyes.

"Calm down!" Roy finally laughed, forcing himself to be cheery. "Don't go into convulsions—it's nothing big! The kid just overheard our conversation last night and wanted to me to clarify some things."

If anything, Aqualad's expression grew even more distorted. "Speedy, Beast Boy _freaked out_ on the phone! And he called your cell, not your team pager—but it's not even seven o'clock! Try to tell me again that it's 'nothing big!'"

Roy rose from the table, walking closer to Garth. Compliant smile pasted in place of his lips, he grabbed the Atlantean's shoulder, shaking it a little. "It," he said. "Is nothing. Big. Now, I'll be back in about an hour—hopefully less—and when I get back you can doctor my so-called fever and continue scrutinizing my conversations with Raven all you like. Agreed?"

Aqualad let out a gloomy breath. "Agreed, I suppose. Does your arm still hurt?"

"Nope." The redhead straightened, heading toward the door. "And I don't feel sick, either!"

* * *

As a sidenote, that quote is probably my favorite, perhaps only topped by another that I'll end up using in these chapters. (I think.) 

Also, anonymous reviews _are_ allowed now! I'm sorry if you were attempting to review before—I didn't know it was possible to block them…!

I'd like to set up a game. (Insert random idea here!) I'll ask a question, and the first to get it right in their review will be able to set the deadline for the following chapter. Sound slightly amusing?

Question: What kind of weapon hangs below Carnifax's fireplace? (Hint: Not a firearm.)


	5. Not So Verbatim

**Volte-Face**

Ah, this is a few days early, but that's okay.

Thank you...  
**ferretgirl-1124  
DiamondOasis  
Xment2bursX  
Aime Atem Itsumo**- Did you get a PM...?  
**NemesisMuse  
Sockhunter  
Sugar-Hype-Queen  
xxxpheonix-girlxxx**- Thank you for the dedication, and the motivation to actually sit down and write something. _For the Papers_ got me back into the SpAqua mood and spurred me into writing this—I usually don't update _before_ a deadline—after days of procrastination. "¿Puede hacer usted que y la caminata, por favor!?" (The day we _directly_ communicate is the day the world blows up, eh?)

This chapter is (sigh) pretty much dialogue, although I promise the next one will be better. (Ohh, _yes_, chapter six will be interesting...) I just want to sit and write Garth-Roy smut and insanity, for goodness sakes!

One more note before we begin: If you check my profile once in a while, it'll tell you when the next update is coming and may also have a bit of the chapter as a teaser. Right now, my "Edit Profile" option isn't working, but I think it's just a bug in the system... check it in a day or so, and I bet it'll be fixed.

Onward, ho!

* * *

"Is it progress if a cannibal uses knife and fork?"  
—Stanislaw J. Lec

If it were possible to slam a hydraulic door, Karen was sure Garth had invented a way. She heard him storming up through the bedroom wing of the Tower, going through each section as loudly as possible. She was already out of the shower and robed when he got there—the thunderous "_BEE!_" from a few feet down the hallway alerted that Aqualad had finally reached his destination.

She opened the door for him but moved out of the frame at once in fear of being trampled. As expected, Garth barely slowed in his fury; he swept through the door and reached the back of her bedroom before finally stopping to face her.

"Something's bothering you," she surmised, trying to hide her amusement. Whenever either of the older boys got angry, she thought it was funny, mostly because they were always mad at the other hothead in the Tower. Sometimes, their bickering turned into such a ridiculous argument that she could swear they were an old couple.

"It's _Speedy_," Garth growled, forcing Bee to bite back a laugh.

"He came by a while ago and said he was leaving for the West Tower," she said evenly, sinking into a chaise at the side of the room. "Do you know why? He didn't specif—"

"He's dating Raven!" Aqualad exploded, fists clenching at his sides. "He went to see _her_!"

That broke the camel's back. Karen let out a tiny chuckle and then slipped into a fit of giggles, howling with laughter at one point. "That's the most idiotic thing…!" she panted, waving a hand in front of her face to dismiss the idea. "Where did you even—"

"Don't laugh!" He gritted his teeth, tapping his foot in an obvious show of impatience until she stopped a few minutes later. "I mean it, _don't laugh_. I think it's a serious relationship!"

She wiped a humored tear from her eye, shaking her head. "Speedy doesn't even _relate_ to Raven, much less _like_ her! And there's no way in hell those two would _date_!"

Garth exhaled sharply, angrily. "But they _are_!" he insisted. "Whenever Speedy goes out, where does he go?"

Bee shrugged. "I have no idea, a lot of the time. He's nearly an adult—"

"But where do you _think_ he goes?"

Again, she shrugged, a straggling laugh making her pause. "He hasn't had an excursion in a while… I think he went to visit Raven last night, though, right?"

A triumphant sneer twisted up Garth's lips. "_Exactly_," he hissed, pacing a few feet to the right. "To our knowledge, he went to see her once, but what if all those other times he was gone were _dates_?"

Karen quirked a brow, adjusting the neckline of the robe. "I agree with the date theory, but I doubt any of his dates were Raven. Some pretty blond girl he picked up at a bar, sure; but not _Raven_. Honestly, Aqua, I don't know why it would matter anyway, especially to you."

"Raven's my friend," he tried. "And so is Speedy. If they get together—"

"You should be happy for them." Karen sighed, standing, playing with a stray piece of hair. "But that's _so_ unlikely, them getting together. Even if they are dating, it's not as if they're stupid. They know the risks with the media, with the fans, the criminals…" She looked at him, smiling. "Maybe they're already being secretive about it. Maybe they don't even want _us_ to know about it, because they think the news will spread from Titan to Honorary Titan to police officer to the general public to a felon. I'm sure—"

"What if," Aqualad interjected, slow but confident, "I told you that Raven was pregnant?"

His leader's eyes narrowed dangerously, lips instantly slipping into a frown. "That's a brazen claim to make," she answered. "Unless you have some justification, I'd appreciate you keeping—"

"No—Bee, I _do_ have proof!"

"Did either of them directly tell you?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Well, no, but—"

"Did you see a pregnancy test?"

Garth sighed. "No."

"What sort of proof, then, can you possibly have?" Karen rolled her eyes, wandering to her closet. "Really, Aqua," she reprimanded as she rifled through clothes, "I thought you were a tiny bit more logical than that."

"I _am_ being logical! Will you just listen to me? Raven called Speedy this morning—I was _there_, don't give me that look!—and when they were talking, he got all pale and started sweating. He was in panic-mode, Bee!"

"Did you actually _hear_ the conversation?" she shot over her shoulder.

"Well… kind of. I picked up the phone and Beast Boy was on the other line—"

"I thought he got _Raven_ pregnant, not Beast Boy," Karen grinned.

"Oh, be quiet—so he picked up the phone and freaked out, shocked that I was on the line. It was like he—or Raven, because she was there, too—wanted to tell Speedy something, but wasn't sure if I should be in the room. So then Speedy got the phone from me and was all tense and angry at the kid, so I think Raven took her phone back and _that's_ when he started to get nervous!"

While he talked, Karen had straightened, intuition taking bites into her conscience. Something wasn't right about the situation, she had to admit. And so far, the phone call made sense, although not enough to be incriminating.

"Anyway, it sounded as if Beast Boy had heard or seen them doing something—either talking about the chance of Raven being pregnant, or actually… er, _procreating_, I guess. Whatever it was, Speedy got _mad_ and kicked a few things before Raven told him something _really_ serious, which made him go quiet."

"What did she tell him?" Karen wondered, taking her seat on the chaise again, engrossed.

"I can't say for sure, but I'm almost positive she told him that she had the results to the pregnancy test, but hadn't opened them. And then she asked him if he wanted to know what it said—"

"Wait, hold on," Bee interrupted, raising a hand for him to stop. "Why was Beast Boy there?"

"Moral support?" he guessed. "She had to explain things to him after he found out, and since they're friends he decided to be there for her when she gave Speedy the news… I think. And like I said, he was the one who was actually on the phone first, so maybe he was encouraging her to call Speedy and then took the liberty of doing so when she didn't."

Karen sighed and shook her head. This was too surreal, and yet Garth's retelling made sense. Would they need a daycare service soon? "Go on, please…"

He thought for a moment. "Where was I?"

"Results for the tes—"

"Oh, yeah. So she had the results and was going to tell him, but Speedy asked 'Over the phone?' and I'm pretty sure Raven said no, and instead wanted him to come over so they could find out together."

Karen cut him off with a groan, burying her face in her palms. "Those two can_not_ be together like that." She stared at the floor, and then lifted her gaze to Aqualad. "I guess I can _kind of_ see them having sex or something—Speedy's just like that, maybe—but all this stuff about pregnancy tests and wanting to find out 'together' and…" She left off, unable to continue. "Do I even _know_ Speedy anymore?"

"Well… maybe Raven's in love with him, but Speedy doesn't feel the same?" he theorized awkwardly, shifting his weight. "I mean, at first he said he couldn't come over, like he would prefer to be distanced when she told him."

"So why did he go?"

Garth shrugged. "She convinced him, somehow."

"Did she ask him nicely? Say please?" Karen suddenly laughed, though her tone was empty of humor. "Did she _threaten_ him?"

"No idea, but it took her a while to do. Then they hung up, and Speedy put on a good front and told me nothing was wrong. He wasn't sincere, I know that much." Garth sat next to her on the chair, facing away from her and yet sharing her confusion.

"I… don't know what to tell you," she said after a long moment. "I can't say I'm a full believer in it yet, but there's no way to ask Speedy right now. He never takes his communicator with him unless he's in uniform, so we can't call him…" She leaned to one side, dropping her head onto the Atlantean's shoulder. "You think we should talk to Robin?"

"He'd kill someone."

"But I'd rather ask him for information before bombarding Shafty. If we don't have absolutely solid proof he'd only lie to us, as much as it hurts to say." She knew her team—at least, she knew how they would react to confrontation.

"If this _is_ what he's been keeping from us…" Garth stopped his sentence short, eyes widening in realization. "You know, he was talking about how hard 'coercing intellectuals' into sleeping with him is when he got home last night. I don't remember why, but…"

"We should talk to Robin."

Garth nodded. "And _then_ he made breakfast this morning; did you see that?"

"No. Smelled it, though."

"Eggs, bacon, omelets—the whole shebang. Not like him at all, is it? Oh—and he burned his arm in the process, but he didn't seem to care."

Bee mused on it for a moment, and then let out a heavy sigh. "Call Robin for me."

Aqualad nodded, pulling his communicator. He flipped it open, pressed in Robin's code and waited for the Boy Wonder to pick up.

"Robin here."

"Hey," Garth said, a half-hearted smile on his face. It actually looked rather like a grimace. "I don't really know how to say this, but—"

Karen snatched the yellow device away, too baffled by everything to be subtle. "Rob, your Tower might have a baby Titan on the way. We need to know everything _you_ know about Raven's behavior these past few weeks."

* * *

I'm not sure if NemesisMuse is doing the next deadline (Are you? xD), but in case not...

Question: What does 'Carnifax' mean? (Hint: Not a happy occupation—I'm not even sure why it's my username.)


	6. A Lewd Encounter

**Volte-Face**

So I'm a week late. Heh.

Thank you…  
**Xment2bursX**- ...Do you have two personalities on this website?  
**Aime Atem Itsumo**- They have competitions for that? I wish I could see... Oh, and your wish is my command. (waves wand) I CHOOSE YOU, ROY HARPER!  
**DiamondOasis**  
**Sugar-Hype-Queen**- Control? _Where_?!  
**Messenger of Light**- (feels special)

The quote for this chapter is a proverb, and as such it can interpreted two ways. One is the interpretation saying "People who have knowledge are more dangerous than people who are oblivious." The second interpretation, which is the way I'm meaning it to be taken, is "If you only know a little bit about a situation, things can get construed and misinterpreted to the point of being dangerous." So, um, please use the second interpretation. (grin)

Now, about the chapter… it's late, like I said—sorry about that—but I was having too much fun tweaking dialogue and such. Roy has some great lines…

Please enjoy.

* * *

"A little knowledge is a dangerous thing."  
—Proverb

In any other, non-dignity-threatening situation, Roy would've fled the moment he walked into Raven's room and got a stack of gay porn shoved in his face.

"…the _fuck_ is this?"

"What?" Beast Boy asked innocently, peering over the top of the stack. "Don't you read _GAY LA LA!_? I was flipping through a few issues for you, just to see what kind of things might be taking place over in your bedroom—or do you do it in Aqualad's?—and I found out exactly what kind of lubrication you should use, what the typical gay 'missionary position' is, what defines a dominant man from a—"

Roy shoved him through the door, quickly glancing down either ends of the hall before following. Raven trailed behind him, closing the door and switching on the lights.

The changeling continued, dumping the magazines on Raven's bed as the trio roamed farther back. "And did you know research shows that men who sleep with other—"

"Shut the fuck up." Mask narrowed in irritation, Roy clenched his fists, barely able to restrain himself from crossing the room and beating him senseless. "You want to talk to me? Fine. But start pulling out pictures of naked guys and I'll fucking punch you 'til you die."

Beast Boy smirked, waving around a Christmas-themed issue. "What's it like, seeing rainbows and wearing pink?"

If not for the hand Raven put on his shoulder then, Speedy would've been halfway through caving in Beast Boy's face. "Calm down," she murmured, rolling her eyes. "He's stupid."

"Just let me kick his ass," he growled. "Just this once, a little violence won't—"

A cackle came from the green-skinned teen. "I thought you were after Aqua's ass, not mine!"

"That's it—!" He surged forward, teeth gritted into a near-insane grin, hands groping for the wiry, breakable neck.

There was no warning; one moment, both boys were moving toward each other, and the next moment they were pinned against opposite walls by pulsing black tendrils. The dark energy came from Raven's palms, extensions of her real arms. She glared between the two, gaze pitch and smoldering.

"You will talk," she said slowly, "like civilized humans. Understood?"

Beast Boy writhed against the thick strand holding him there, but nodded regardless. Speedy, who was relaxed in his prison, simply crossed his arms.

The tendrils tightened around both boys. "Spee—"

"So long as he doesn't mock me for being gay—because I'm _not_—I'll behave."

Breath uneven with anger, Raven shot a look at both of them before releasing her grip. "I'm here to mediate," she said, "but I don't think that should be necessary. Beast Boy, put your questionable magazines away. Speedy, keep your—"

"Even _Hot 'n' Homo_?" He threw down the Christmas issue and picked up another, whose cover was plagued by pink and blue designs and a harem of inappropriately-dressed men.

"Yes. Even _Hot 'n' Homo_."

Beast Boy frowned, but after a moment he turned to Roy and grinned, holding out the periodical. "_You_ want a look?"

Expression of faux happiness, Speedy bit his lip, speaking with as much cheery derision as possible. "_Hot 'n' Homo_? Oh, boy, would I ever!" He yanked the magazine from Beast Boy and threw it into the wall, face red in fury. "You fucking lunatic, where the hell did you even abscond with—"

"So you're really _not_ gay?" The changeling shrugged, crossed his arms and sank onto the bed with a sigh. "I didn't think you were. You're too… _Speedy_ to be gay."

The seriousness of his tone startled Roy into silence for a moment. It took concentration to make his mouth work, and when it did nothing intelligible came out. "I'm 'too Speedy'?"

He shrugged again. "You know, '_Speedy_.' Macho, a smooth-talker, gets a lot of action… from girls. So what's all this about you liking Aqualad?"

"It's… I don't know." Roy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then grunted as something hit the back of his knees. His legs buckled and he fell back into the armchair Raven had hit him with. "Thanks," he mumbled over his shoulder to her, and then looked toward Beast Boy again. "You heard me talk about it before, didn't you?"

"Ah, but just a minute ago, you said you weren't gay." Beast Boy tipped his head to one side. "So how does that work? If Aqualad is a boy and you like him…?"

"I don't _like_ him."

"Oh?" He smiled. "If you _love_ him, then—"

"That's not what I meant!" Roy said quickly, flushing a slight red. "I meant I'm not into him at all! I'm just confusing friendship for something else—that _has_ to be it!" He took a breath, thinking. "I haven't had a friend who's male in _years_, so I'm just not used to being close to a guy. I'm taking it too far."

"What about Robin?" Raven wondered from where she stood a few feet back. "If no one else, he's—"

"I don't _live_ with Robin," Roy interrupted. "And we really aren't that good of comrades. We're… _too_ similar, I think."

Beast Boy's mouth curled into a smirk. "_I_ think you're just rationalizing. If you're so comfortable with that theory… let's tell Aqualad!" He dug for his communicator, flipping it open with a flourish. "Shall I?"

Roy's intake of breath was sharp in his lungs; his fingers dug subconsciously into the armrest of the chair. "No," he hissed, fighting his irrational mind for control. "Don't do that. Please."

The teen paused, finger on the call button, and suddenly rose from the bed as he clicked the device shut. "Well," he murmured, taking long strides down one side of the room. "I think you're unsure of yourself."

"Intuitive," Raven mumbled quietly.

"If!" Beast Boy said loudly, spinning on his toes to face the archer. "If Aqualad was female… would you be okay with what you're feeling now?"

"What are you, my therapist?"

"Just answer the—"

"Yes?" Roy pursed his lips. "Yes, I would probably not care as much if he was a girl, I think."

Beast Boy leaned forward, hands clasped behind his back. "With the feelings you have now? As in, you would be fine with dating him—her? You're sure?"

"I… yes?" He quirked a brow, setting his mask awry on his face. "What does that have to do with _anything_?"

"It means you're in denial," he chuckled, glancing at Raven for support.

She nodded to him. "He means, if you would date an Aqua_lass_, you _want_ to date Aqua_lad_—but you just don't want to because he's male."

"So I'm gay."

"S'what I think," Beast Boy answered.

Roy shook his head, fervent. "No, I'm _not_. I'm not into your collages of guys, I _don't_ prefer male strippers and _no_, I have _never_ read up on lubrication. I. Am _not_. Gay."

"But you admitted it; you ­_are_ into Aqualad. Maybe men are your type."

The redhead frowned.

"No…" Raven let out a breath, amusing herself with the frayed hem of her cloak. "I don't think he's into men."

"Thank you!" Speedy laughed, saluting her with a nod.

"But—"

"I think he's just into Aqualad. It's not rare for a person to… Hold on." She cocked her ear toward the door. "What's that noise?"

It sounded like a storm of elephants were rushing through the hallway, stomping and scraping the walls and yelling oaths at the top of their lungs. The three Titans stood and went closer to the door, about to open it themselves when a furious kick rammed it clear off its track.

"Rob—"

The Boy Wonder clawed at Roy's shirt, one hand grabbing him by his jacket's lapels, the other sending him sprawling with a practiced punch to the jaw.

Roy hit the ground before he could throw out an arm to stop his fall. He swore incoherently, spikes of pain shooting up into his head, blood in his mouth and patches of white in front of his eyes. "_Fuck_," he mumbled, the first comprehensible syllable to leave him.

"Robin!" both Western Titans shouted, grabbing for their leader before he could get another hold on their visitor.

"Robin, calm down!" Raven felt the rage inundating his clarity and shivered. "Stop—stop struggling!"

Roy gagged as blood reached the back of his throat; he could taste the salty, metallic fluid, but the ache on the left side of his face still controlled too much of his mind for him to spit it out. He could barely see, and yet he could hear the battle and know that whatever he had done had made Robin uncontrollably furious.

The leader yanked away from both Titans, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed to a vicious blue. "Where are the tests?" he snarled, directing the question at Raven.

"Robin, what tests?"

"The… _the_ tests! The results!" He pointed at Speedy in accusation. "Does _he_ have them? Did you show him yet?"

Roy clambered to his feet, holding the pounding side of his face. "What results?" he managed to mumble.

"'What results,' he says! Ha!" Robin spun on Raven once more. "Your pregnancy test, _that's_ 'what results'!"

A moment of silence passed through the room as three slack-jawed expressions slowly turned into varying degrees of humor and annoyance.

Raven was the first to break the awkward moment. "My _what_?"

"You're pregnant, and _he_"—Robin pointed at Roy again—"is the _father_!"

Beast Boy broke into hysterical laughter; Speedy cracked a grin. Raven, on the other hand, simply gaped, letting her mouth fall open in shock.

"I… I am not…!"

"Robin," Beast Boy said evenly, and glancing sideways at the archer. "There's no way Speedy here could get Raven… pregnant." He paused until another round of giggles subsided. "See, Speedy's… well… not into that kind of thing."

"What do you mean?" Robin demanded.

"He's just…" The changeling shuffled back toward the bed, leaning over it to retrieve something. Picking it up, he trotted back to Robin, extending the periodical with an enormous smirk. "He'd be more into _this_."

Robin took the magazine, staring for a moment at the cover before his entire face went blank. He turned the thing around to show Roy—on the front of it, the words _GAY LA LA!_ were wedged unceremoniously between the legs of three guys, methodically placed to hide their groins.

The look on the team leader's face was a mix of unpleasant shock and disgust. "You're… _gay_?"

* * *

If any of you have the chance to go see the new Harry Potter movie, you should, mostly to hear the hysterical lines. Snape's "I am going… to _penetrate_… your minnnd." quote made me laugh, and… well, let's have this next question revolve around the other cool line.

Question: Who does Sirius punch right after he growls, "Keep your hands _off my godson_!" (Hint: I don't believe he actually punches anyone in the book, so if you haven't seen the movie you can just take a guess.)

Ah, but if you're setting the deadline, please pick a _date_. "As fast as humanly possible," though good in theory, gives me too much leeway to procrastinate… (giggle)

Oh. Right. **NOTICE:** I am going to be on vacation from July 16th to July 30th. I'm going all around Europe—Paris, Nice, Verona, Venice, Vienna and Salzburg, to be specific—but since I'll be spending a ton of time on busses and trains and whatnot, I will be thinking, writing, et cetera. I may have the next few chapters outlined by the time I get back, or written and drafted… you know the drill.

I talk too much. Review, my darlings!


	7. The G Word

**Volte-Face**

Ah, another deadline met, another happy customer… I think. I hope.

The most common question I was asked, whether in PMs or in reviews, was "Are those _real_ gay magazines?" Er, _well_, to tell the truth, they very well could be. I just made them up—_Hot 'n' Homo_ is my favorite—but… c'mon, isn't _GAY LA LA!_ a fun thing to put between naked men's legs?

If I ever see a magazine called that, I'll tell you. And if I see any gay men in Europe, I'll photograph them. (giggles)

Thank you…  
**ferretgirl-1124**- I'm still fangirling _you_, ferret-y person who lives near attack-y trees from whom I've borrowed a cactus. Hi-_yah_!  
**DiamondOasis**- Yes, I _can_ say 'awkward.' Awkward!  
**Sugar-Hype-Queen**- "_On_ the whole way through"? Best compliment I've recieved...!  
**kello-mcjello  
Mutou Yasu**  
**Xment2bursX**- Making me update before I leave...! (mutters)... Ah, yes, the multiple-account switcheroo. I myself am a fan of that.  
**serenity77**- The pairings are, of course, Speedy-Aqualad... or will be eventually, at any rate. I think they still need a good bit of torturing before they're allowed to have archer-fishy-love-love time, though.

And thank you, everyone, for wishing me a good holiday. Truth be told, I hope-hope-hope it rains while we're there, all the time, no matter what. Versailles was so beautiful in the rain… well, after I threw up in it… (That's a wholly other story, though… heh. No coffee for Carni this time, nope…!)

This chapter, if anything, is full of surprises. Well… not surprises, so much as a bit of a surprise at the end. And then there's the explosion of "I've seen you with _lots_ of women!" bit, which I find hysterical. Of course I find it hysterical—I wrote it. I hope you'll find it equally humorous, although seeing as it's rather early in the morning, I could just be insane. You know how it is…

I dislike the beginning, but I adore the second half. What's surprising is how _quickly_ this all came together! It's 2,000-ish words, which is long… relatively speaking. Usually, my chapters are only 1,500 words, but I guess my mini-scene at the end makes it big…-ger.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling now. (grin)

* * *

"The truth is rarely pure, and never simple."  
—Oscar Wilde

"Robin," Roy said for the umpteenth time, near ready to start bashing his head through a wall, "I'm not gay."

The leader had situated himself all the way across the room from the archer, consciously or unconsciously keeping himself as far away from the supposed gay as possible. They were in a meeting room, left alone for the time being—though Roy heavily suspected that even if they weren't physically in the room, at least Beast Boy was monitoring the pair from the security center.

Roy sat at the head of the long table, hands clasped on its surface. Robin, however, had elected to sit on a pile of chairs near the window and for the last ten minutes since Beast Boy's declaration hadn't said anything.

"Really," Roy said. "I'm not."

Blue eyes moved from the fake plant to him—Robin had chosen to amuse himself with picking at the frayed leaves, as opposed to facing the awkward topic at hand.

The Boy Wonder winced, remembering the cover Beast Boy had handed him. "But those magazines…"

"Those weren't mine," Speedy laughed, and waved a dismissing hand. "They were Beast Boy's—he bought them to annoy me, or tempt me, or figure out if I really was gay. I'm not sure _what_ his intentions were, actually, but they didn't entice me. At _all_."

"So you just wanted a good excuse to get out of the pregnancy rumors?" He pursed his lips and wiped a hand down his tired face.

Roy scoffed. "No, it wasn't an excuse. But speaking of rumors, where the _hell_ did you get _that_ one?"

"Is it really, completely, _utterly_ false?" Robin asked.

"Yeah."

"And you aren't Raven's boyfriend."

"No. I haven't slept with her, kissed her—even really held a conversation with her before yesterday, actually." He shrugged and folded his arms, leaning back in the chair. "So it's ridiculous. Who told you she was pregnant?"

"Your team."

Roy choked on air, spluttering words, letting his mouth open and close repeatedly as words tried—and failed—to form. He let out a slight chuckle, but it held no humor and was really just something for his mouth to do as his mind caught up with it.

"_What_?" he coughed out after a moment.

"Bumblebee and Aqualad contacted me about twenty minutes ago, and they explained to me their… theory."

"And… and you _believed_ them?" His eyes were still wide and round in shock.

"At first?" Robin shrugged. "Not really. But then…" He sighed, apparently embarrassed by his mistake. "But then their argument actually started to sound convincing, and then they started asking questions about Raven's behavior and it made _sense_."

"How?"

"When they asked if Raven had been missing from the Tower a lot as of late, I said no. But then, thinking on it, I realized she always would go out to 'bookstores' and 'magic shops,' but I never see her bringing purchases back. And she usually got in late, really late; if I came across her afterward, she'd be happy… fulfilled, or something."

Roy smirked, brought out of his stun by the chance at an innuendo. "It's 'cause I'm such a great fuck," he grinned.

He watched, malicious smile pasted on his face as Robin's expression changed into a number of rapid emotions, changing color as well—his normally-pale skin darkened to an ugly mix of red and purple. "So it _is_ true?" he managed.

"Not at all." Roy set his forehead on the edge of the table, staring down at his lap for a few seconds before closing his eyes. "I was kidding. But why would Raven's disappearances have anything to do with—"

"They said you two were probably meeting away from anyone's eyes; 'a romance in the privacy of your own hotel room,' as Bumblebee put it." Robin's face began to hint back at a normal shade. "So you're sure it's false?"

"_Yes_!" Roy groaned, sitting up and pushing himself away from the table. He rose from the chair only to collapse into the leather couch of the makeshift annex. "But _god_, I can't believe those two! Where the fuck did they even get—"

"They're only concerned for you," Robin muttered quietly. "You've been acting strange, I heard. And you even had to talk to Raven—what _was_ that about, if not about a faux pregnancy?"

Speedy looked up at him, contemplating the consequences of telling him versus the consequences of _not_ telling him. He weighed them in his mind; he could either avoid an extremely awkward conversation with Robin and risk becoming untrustworthy in his eyes, or he could simply lay everything on the table and clear the entire matter up.

Assuming Robin wasn't as homophobic as he was acting… Roy nodded; the latter option would be best, awkward or not.

"Speedy?" Patient blue eyes stared at him from across the room, severe but worried.

"Where to start, where to start," Roy murmured, rising from his position on the couch. Whenever he brought up Garth and their 'bond,' he couldn't sit still and keep from fidgeting. "Well," he said, drawing out the word, "you heard Beast Boy's little… exclamation."

"Of you being gay?"

Roy winced. "Yes. Well, it wasn't… entirely…" His mouth twisted down when he turned and saw the Boy Wonder's face. "What?"

Apparently unaware of the disgust he was showing, Robin jerked his eyes to meet Roy's, confusion mixing in with repulsion. "What, what?"

"Nevermind," he snapped, rolling his eyes and turning hotly. "Anyway—those rumors weren't entirely untrue. But!" he said before Robin could speak. "I am _not_ gay."

"But you just—"

"It's true," he went on, beginning to gesture as his hands needed to be occupied, "that I do _not_ find my gender attractive. But at the same time… There is… _one_ exception."

"Who?" Robin asked weakly.

"It's not you," Speedy laughed, reading into that look; it made Robin appear slightly less ill. "God, no. If I wanted to date you, I'd just get a mirror, or maybe a cut-out of myself. No, no, definitely _not_ you."

"Who, then?"

He licked his lips, suddenly unsure of himself. "It's not really that I'm attracted to him," he started, but then shook his head. "Well, no, I am. But… it's not…" Roy suddenly groaned, setting his head in his palms, running his hands down his face in frustration. "I don't know how to explain it, at least not so you would get it."

"Try?"

It was obvious to Speedy that Robin really didn't want him to explain—he probably just wanted him to stop talking about men, actually—but Roy figured he'd already dug in too far to stop now, conclusively. "When you first saw Starfire," he began, not completely sure this would work, "you probably were first attracted to her beauty, right?"

Robin flushed slightly at the abrupt turnaround in topic. "…yes?"

"And it wasn't until later that you actually fell in love with her personality, right?"

"Yes?" he said again.

"It's like that for me," Roy went on. "Not the beauty part, or handsome part, or whatever—it's the personality. It's the… the feeling I get when he's around. I feel better, like I'm in a soothing paradise, but at the same time it makes me anxious, because I want to be perfect for him and I'm _not_. And obviously I freak out over the blatant problem—we're both _guys_—and that just makes me even more nervous, so I can't do anything but be mean to him…"

When there was no answer from the Boy Wonder, Roy jerked his head around to see what the problem was. Robin merely stared at him, mouth hanging open a bit, eyebrows raised. After a few seconds, he half-smiled without closing his mouth, and then laughed.

"_What_?" Speedy wondered, surprised.

He massaged the bridge of his nose, closing his lips and shaking his head. "I… I don't know. This is _so wrong_, to be discussing this. To be discussing the… the way this _person_ is… making you feel? It's insane! You _can't_ be gay—you're Speedy, for god's sake! You like women! I've _seen_ you with women! I've seen you with _lots_ of women!"

There was no way to reply to that, so Roy stayed silent and let him continue.

"And now you're swooning over some—oh, shoot me—_guy_ you know. You're turning into a woman yourself, Speedy! You say you aren't gay, but—"

"I'm _not_ gay," he interrupted, tone bland. "Everyone keeps throwing around that word—Speedy, you're gay; Speedy, you're not gay; Speedy, you're fucking, blazing, 'gay-er than gay' gay—and I'm telling you, _I'm not into that_! My fucking type is not 'men!' My type, if anything, is only 'Aqualad!'"

He was in such a heated state that he didn't notice he let slip the name until after it happened. There was a moment of near-silence—Roy out a hissed "_Shit_!"—and then, instantly, Robin broke into hysterical laughter.

"Aqualad!" he roared, nearing falling off his chair as he doubled over, amused to the point of frenzy. "He's—oh, god!" Another peal of laughter ripped itself from his lungs and he bent over the table, clutching the arm of the nearest chair. "Aqua…! Speedy, Speedy and… Aq… Aqua…"

"Yes, yes, very funny," Roy murmured, arms crossed, half-annoyed yet half-relieved at the humored reaction. He was expecting something like a violent, angry, even threatening response, certainly _not_ hilarity. "Now, if you're done…"

"No… god, I can't… can't breathe…" Robin inhaled deeply, pausing, but then he took another look at Roy and burst in hysterics again, fanning his flushed face. "And you said… he makes… oh, good _god_, Speedy…"

Roy turned, facing the wall, letting him calm down before speaking again. "Now," he threw over his shoulder, "since you obviously find this _so_ amusing, I'm going to go back to my own Tower. Just to sum up this little conversation, I'm not gay. I am not into gay porn. Those are _not_ my magazines. Raven is _not_ pregnant, and you will pass none of this conversation to Starfire or Cyborg, nor any of Titans East. And Dick, I swear to fucking hell," he said, turning now with teeth gritted. "If you breathe a _word_ of this to Aqualad, I will personally, and without anesthetics, fucking castrate you."

Robin nodded, the last of his giggles faded; he subconscious swallowed at the sound of his given name matched with an utterly-serious threat.

"Get it?" the archer growled. Seeing the returned nod, he stormed out the door. "If you'll excuse me," he muttered as he went. "I have a bug to stomp and a fish to fucking fry."

Robin understood after a moment that he was referring to his teammates, but the Boy Wonder knew better than to add in a quip about using _fuck_ and _Aqualad_ in the same sentence.

xXx

Raven, hearing the din from the meeting room fade, started to hear a new noise—a voice from the room at the end of the hall, yelling something over and over. It sounded like Roy… but that was impossible; she'd seen him go the other direction, toward the elevator, and unless he learned to teleport…

As she got closer, she realized it was the security monitoring room and felt her stomach fill with lead. She slammed her palm into the panel and practically ran through the door, stopping abruptly as the voice's meaning settled.

"—type is not 'men!' My type, if anything is only 'Aqualad!' My fucking type is not 'men!' My type, if anything, is only 'Aqualad!' My fucking type is not—"

"Raven," the low voice of the hulking, half-metal teammate muttered as he turned to her in blatant bewilderment. "Am I… _missing_ something?"

She couldn't speak; her eyes just kept watching Roy's frantic expression change on the screen as the segment played on a loop.

"—type, if anything, is only 'Aqualad!' My fucking type is not 'men!' My type, if anything, is only 'Aqualad!' My fucking type is not 'men!' My type, if anything, is only 'Aqua—"

"Azar," she groaned, sinking into the nearest seat. "So you know…"

* * *

Up next, the big showdown between Roy and Garth! (bursts into a fit of giggles) I don't know how "big" it's going to be, but it surely will be… long. And perhaps violent. And perhaps Roy will need 'alternative methods' (ooh-hoo!) to prove that he is _not_ sleeping with Raven, and never will.

Personally, I like 'alternative methods.' xD There are a lot of 'alternative methods' going to be used to figure out what the hell Roy is feeling… fufu…

And then… (tee hee) There are a few kisses in the future. Please bear with me until then… :3

Question: I am the beginning of sorrow, and the end of sickness. You cannot express happiness without me; yet I am in the midst of crosses. I am always in risk, yet never in danger. You may find me in the sun, but I am never out of darkness.

No hint this week, though I love this riddle. It's not so hard once you figure it out (Are _you_ clever enough?) and yet I thought it might pose a challenge, so you people have two weeks to figure it out. If you think you know the answer, just remember that the dates of my absence are in the postscript of chapter six.

Oh—another strange question I received, just to clear things up… I am _not_ going on a tour with a band, nor am I touring for a movie or book. (xD!) Two of you asked me that in e-mails, so I don't know what your pennames on here are, but please know… I'm just going with the French club at my school. That is _all_.

(…though it was rather comical, imagining myself in a band…)

And, stealing the idea from the lovely ferretgirl-1124… you guys can instant message me, if you want. On AIM, I'm "MagentaHippo." ((kicks you) I know it's silly, but I've had it since I was seven and never bothered to change it. I like it, so _blah_.) I'm really not a scary person; if you see me online, go ahead and say aloha.


	8. The Calm Before the Storm

**Volte-Face**

Give me a solid deadline in your reviews or something like this will happen! I'll take forever to update and lose all will to continue…! (Although, my hiatus was half because of laziness and half because a fabulously-good book recently came out, and I _had_ to read it, and then we had to prepare for my sister's graduation party... But no excuses!)

Thank you…  
**Rave-Widow  
ferretgirl-1124**- Raven's a little caught up in things right now to take care of Beast Boy, but he'll get what's coming to him eventually... heh.  
**foreveramutant  
Mutou Yasu**- Of course I'd thank you! I'd be ungrateful to look over people who were reading my silly little SpAqua story... As for Robin bursting out laughing? It took a while to decide exactly how he'd react, but after much contemplation (...kinda...) I decided, "Hell, let's expect the unexpected!" and wrote it as such. I ended up liking it, so...  
**Xment2bursX**- "Enough time" is for squares. (grin)  
**Sugar-Hype-Queen**- I laughed so hard when I got your review—I thought about Roy's "inside" voice when I was writing the thing. (Great minds, neh?)  
**hannah banana 666**- I got four e-mails from you alone. Thank you for alerting/favoriting so much!  
**Nancy**- Every time someone tells me they stayed up really late reading something of mine, I can't believe it. I'm very thankful, though, that it's so enticing to people that they'll give up a decent night's sleep just to read what I've written. Thanks so much!  
**ramhay**- Similar to what I said to Mutou Yasu—I couldn't decide how to make Beast Boy react, and then I realized "—oh, wait, this is BB we're talking about!" And shockingly, the salesperson wasn't very surprised! It was an older, jaded woman, and she just rang him up as if the magazines were Campbell's soup. She was quite annoyed, though, 'cause he emptied her entire rack of _GAY LA LA!_s... But why was he out shopping in the first place? Oh-ho-ho, I wonder... (hint hint cough cough...) Oh—and you rock at art. Coming from me (the talentless stick-figure-drawer), that might not mean much, but seriously... Your dA gallery is teh shiz...  
**Shesau**- If I didn't mention in the PM: I actually like deadlines. I never feel rushed with them, no matter how short—having a set day for the new chapter makes me focus more and get things done efficiently.  
**GabbyAndHerEnigmas**

I really dislike this chapter. It _is_ the calm before the storm (…obviously…) but it's just so… ehh. It's not so much the content as the fact that it doesn't end on a conclusive "Chapter ends here!"-kind of note. Ah, well; so long as it advances the story and makes Roy go through the typical amounts of stress...!

* * *

"Punctuality is the virtue of the bored."  
—Evelyn Waugh

Churning waters promised a storm, one that hovered over the bay for a number of hours before finally passing, a serene sunset left in its wake. Other than that, the day was normal; a lazy, cloudy morning, one of the best days for a noontime swim.

But Garth was too worried to even look at the water. His eyes were set on the horizon instead, staring down at the cityscape from his perch on roof's edge.

Roy hadn't come back. Robin called to tell them the archer had left and would arrive momentarily, but that was nearly two hours before. As the gloomy clouds rolled in to cover a greater portion of the sky, time had passed, and the moody, secretive redhead was nowhere to be seen.

And it was Garth's fault. He _knew_ he should've kept his mouth shut about his theories, looking back at the decision, but at the time… Well, the idea had seemed so solid, so likely to be true. Now he just felt stupid, making an enormous deal of something simply because his teammate wouldn't tell him what was going on.

Karen had tried to convince him otherwise, but he knew Speedy was only taking so long because he was angry. And his anger was, as always, directed at the resident Atlantean—what had he been _thinking_? But he only realized how idiotic it was when Robin called to report.

Robin's call had established a number of things: Firstly, that the rumor was true in no way, shape or form. Secondly, that Speedy was angry. The Boy Wonder mentioned saying something that may have aggravated him, but Aqualad knew that that was probably just a condolence—the archer was mad, yes, but at Garth: for starting the ridiculous tale, for creating a fuss, for making Robin so irate.

The third and biggest thing the call had established, if indirectly, was the fact that Garth had inadvertently pushed Roy further away. If he knew the archer—and he did, at least in this respect—he knew Roy would only try harder to keep things from his prying mind now that he'd invaded his personal bubble to the deepest degree.

Aqualad sighed, adjusting himself on the edge; he was sitting on the border with one leg resting on the roof and the other hanging off the side. Laying back, he stared up at the looming clouds and folded his arms across his chest.

But where would Roy _go_? It was late in the morning, so surely the bars and clubs weren't open, and where else would he be?

A low rumble made him jerk upright, interrupting his train of thought. Either it was thunder, or the enormous main doors had just opened—was Roy back? Garth swung his leg back onto the roof and took three steps before the clouds split and the sky released a solid sheet of water, and he realized that Roy wasn't back.

In a sudden wave of apathy, Garth sunk onto the concrete, sprawled out on his back. "I give up," he mumbled, closing his eyes to the rain. It almost hurt against his skin; the droplets felt like tiny needles pricking him everywhere, creating a level of numbness. The relaxation he usually felt when it rained wasn't coming, and the flashes were irritating, and with every rolling thunder the Tower shook and threatened to fall. He was so tired of waiting…

xXx

By the time Roy returned to the Tower, his anger at Robin had simmered away, leaving him rather pleasant despite the weather. He loved sunny days, but the rain wasn't unwelcome; it had been too dry in the past few weeks and a bout of heavy storms was the only cure.

But when he walked into the main room and Karen instantly started barking out apologies, the spite boiled into his veins again. After a moment of listening to her rambling, Roy asked who was the actual mastermind behind the rumor.

Her answer had been short. "Aqualad… He's on the roof."

And so Speedy found himself at the top of the roof-entrance stairs, staring at his hand against the door. He took a breath, indignant to argue. _Not gonna be swayed by him_, he promised himself, knowing full well the power of the Atlantean's eyes. Coupled with the fact that the last expression Roy had seen on his teammate was one of worry, Speedy would have to fight the urge to let Garth get away with thinking rumors were okay.

He shoved the door open, stepping once into the rain before he froze. For a moment he considered he was dreaming, asleep, safe in a bed somewhere in the Tower, simply having a nightmare. But then the cold rain started flitting through his hair, on his cheeks, wetting the shoulders of his clothing and he realized that the limp body sprawled across the wet cement was very clearly in reality.

He took slow steps toward Garth, his wide-eyed stare never leaving the dark-haired prince. He heard the door clang shut, but it was miles away, planets away—all he could see was the unconscious, sodden body before him, and all he could hear was the faint, rapid heartbeats whirring below his ribs.

Every other sense was blocked with pure, unadulterated panic.

"Aqualad?" he asked hopelessly, circling around to Garth's head. He crouched and repeated the name, louder this time, vainly hoping he would stir.

Roy shifted closer, on his knees, reaching to shake the Atlantean's shoulder. It didn't help; he shook it harder, more demandingly. "Aqualad!" he barked, but a faraway thunderclap swallowed his voice.

_Maybe he's just sleeping really soundly._ The idea didn't soothe his pulse or mind.

Moving even closer, he tapped Garth's cheek with two fingers, gently at first but quickly becoming brisk, sharp flicks. "Aqualad," he groaned, sitting back on his heels. This wasn't normal, even for an Atlantean-turned-superhero. He should've woken up already.

"Please get up," he mumbled, resorting to begging but quickly turning to annoyance. "Fishface! Gill-head! Dolphin boy!" After a stream of random insults, he turned to derogatory terms paired with random aquatic animals, but still the dark-haired boy was unconscious.

Roy grabbed the front of Aqualad's shirt, yanking him to an upright seat. His head lolled, but Roy ignored it and put his mouth beside his ear.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP, GARTH!" he yelled, loud as he could.

A jerk made the Atlantean tense and then he was awake, violet eyes staring from close proximity into Roy's. He looked startled and then worried, but not for his own safety.

"Speedy, what's wrong?" he asked evenly, prying the archer's clenched fingers from the front of his shirt. "I was only asleep."

Roy shoved himself to his feet, awkwardly turned away from Garth, face suddenly heated. He'd forgotten, in his alarm, who he was waking up, and the curt shock of seeing those familiar, concerned eyes so close to his face was a bit much.

"Spee—"

"Well, don't fall asleep in the middle of a thunderstorm!" he snapped over one shoulder, irritated by his own stupidity. His mind raced to catch up with the abrupt turn in emotion; he felt the gears turning, groping for the point of talking to Garth and miserably coming up short. "I mean," he continued, stemming his embarrassment, "that's what we have beds for, isn't it? And at least indoors you won't get hit by lightning!"

Aqualad fidgeted, clambering to an eventual standing position. "Well, I just was lying out here and it started raining… and I fell asleep."

"In this thunderstorm?" Roy gestured toward the pitch-colored sky. He was trying not to notice how Garth's white shirt clung to his body in the rain, or how exotically angular his face looked with his hair slicked back from it, wet against his skull.

The said Atlantean shrugged. "I _did_ come from the ocean, you know. Wet is wet. And," he said, a miffed expression crashing down onto his face, "I was only out here waiting for _you_ to get back!"

The gears in Roy's head clicked into place. Right—Aqualad had come up with the whole pregnancy rumor, and now he needed a proper reprimand. "Well, I'm here."

Garth thought for a moment and then pushed past him, leading the way back into the building. Once again, Speedy had to tear his eyes from him—he was getting altogether too much pleasure from watching the sodden fabric move across the pale, taut shoulder blades.

Karen threw them both a disapproving look when they sloshed through the main room, but it couldn't last long; Roy could tell she was merely glad they hadn't torn each other apart yet. 'Yet,' of course, being the operative word.

They ended up in the massive bathroom on the top floor of the place, where the hallway split off into two directions; one for each gender. Both Towers had a similar facility—while the rooms were built for washing off chemicals and other toxic debris, they turned into the main bathrooms during various holiday parties after a hiatus from hardcore villains.

Garth threw Roy an entire stack of towels, landing a majority of them in the middle of a puddle one of the two had created upon traipsing into the place. Speedy, intent on changing _and_ talking, started off the discussion.

"So," he began. "Where the hell did you get the idea that Raven was _pregnant_?"

Garth, towel wrapped around his head, winced. "Your conversation with her was… suspicious enough to form a theory about. It just so happens that was the possibility I ran with, and after thinking it through—er, rationalizing—it made perfect sense."

"Perfect sense," Roy repeated dimly, throwing off his shirt. Somewhere in one of the cupboards, there would be uniforms or clothing, but he didn't know where… "So you decided to tell Bee?"

He winced again. "Well… I thought she should know…"

"And it didn't occur to you that, just maybe, you should talk to _me_ first? Or Raven, even?"

"It… No… Well…" He paused and shook his head. "It was stupid, okay? …Speedy?"

"Er—what?" The archer's attention had momentarily drifted to the mirror; a good-sized protrusion was forming on the side of his jawbone, turning an ugly bluish-black where Robin had punched him. He turned to the Atlantean, fingering the bump, jerking back when Garth was closer than he thought.

The dark-haired teen's face was incredulous. "Did someone _hit_ you?"

Roy kept his eyes off his teammate's face as webbed fingers reached to steady his chin. Garth's skin was oddly smooth to the touch; he held back a shiver when the prince ran an examining thumb over the raised, darkened patch.

"Robin?" Aqualad said after a minute, hands dropping to the edge of his shirt. He yanked it off and treaded over to one side of the room while Roy remained still, simply nodding. "I'm _really_ sorry," he sighed, unfolding the new shirt he'd procured from the cabinet before turned back toward Roy. "Are you mad at me?"

It was such a juvenile question, but coming from the innocent mouth of Aqualad it sounded perfectly sane. Roy, still fingering his chin, shook his head. "Not especially. I went out to lunch; that calmed me down."

"So, you _were_ mad? At me? For the rumor?" Garth plopped himself into a tiled bench, lips pursing between each question. "I guess I can't blame you—it _was_ rather unsubstantiated—"

"No, it's fine." He made his way to the shirt cabinet and pulled on a new one, shivering at the cold fabric.

"—and I could understand that you think I'm stupid, stereotyping you to be a playboy guy, running around and sleeping with every girl you can get your hands on—"

Roy's brow twitched lower. "Really, it's fine…"

"—without regard to who it might be or their personality. I mean, you might sleep around a _bit_, but you'd never go so far as to get with Raven! I mean, she's the epitome of anti-Speedy—"

"Aqualad…" That spark of anger was back.

"She's intelligent and outspoken and deep and apathetic and moody and dark and _beautiful_ and—"

"_Aqualad_!"

Garth stopped short, finally looking up at the archer. He looked confused, unaware that he'd said anything out-of-line. "Hm?"

Roy wasn't sure what bothered him more: how Garth portrayed him as a shallow whore or how, as he was describing Raven, the ghost of a smile turned the corners of his lips up. Either way, he felt that crawling, aching sensation and knew that he desperately needed to hit something.

"What?" Aqualad asked again, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Speedy stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head. "You know what? Nevermind. I'm getting an ice pack."

Garth watched him stalk from the room, and as soon as the door closed he had the strange feeling that he'd managed to push the archer farther away by merely confessing how wrong he was.

* * *

We may not return to this Tower for a while… or perhaps we will…

Question:  
From everyone I something take,  
But on myself no claim I make.  
Mark well my nature. If you gaze  
Into my face I mock your ways:  
For if you sorrow, I am sad;  
But if you smile, you make me glad.  
Because I tell truth from a lie,  
Men call me wicked, false, and sly;  
Strange saying this, but true I ween.  
So I, to let it clear be seen  
That truth nor honesty I lack,  
Will never tell you white is black.

No hint once again, but as I said before—give me a deadline! That's the point of this, neh?

In light of my Europe trip, I feel compelled to rant about it for a paragraph or so. Thanks again to everyone wishing me a fun time! It ended up being fun, despite the not-so-amiable company-- but who needs company when you're staring down from the Eiffel Tower, or while sitting in a gondola in Venice? The food was spectacular every night, as was to be expected, and though I didn't make it to any beaches (I'm not a sun-person) it was fabulous being so close to the ocean so often. My favorite country without a doubt was Austria; both Vienna and Salzburg were just my kind of places! Our hotel in Salzburg had _The Sound of Music_ playing 24/7-- if you remember that movie, when Maria takes the children out in their playclothes they visit a ton of random places in the city. Well, we went to nearly all of them (the horse-fish fountain she splashes, the gnomes they tap on the head, the tunnel they skip through, the steps they jump up and down while singing) and then came back to our rooms and watched the movie, pointing out "We saw that! We posed there! So-and-so tripped on those!"


	9. The Truth, Sort of

**Volte-Face**

This fanfiction was filmed before a live studio audience.

Thank you…  
**Xment2bursX**- Garth wouldn't do anything drastic to himself... yet... (snicker) And thanks for subscribing to my magical C2-thing. I forgot all about it... I'll add more today...  
**ferretgirl-1124**  
**Nara Rei**  
**Mutou Yasu**- Of _course_ Garth doesn't think he's in love with Roy yet! He's too busy being infatuated with someone else! (evil cackle) Yes, _far_ too busy...  
**APurpleAvacado**- I don't believe she did, actually... but thank you for reading! And thank her for recommending it to someone!

Shnar! I want to write hot smut… but no. I can't. Not for a while… (sigh). For those of you who think this is going to end soon, you better go buy popcorn now—I have no intention of letting the boys go at it for quite a long time…

I myself am getting bored of all this talking and whatnot, so next chapter will be… (snicker) amusing. Oh, how I love getting malicious…!

Don't get confused by the first half. This _is_ the right fanfic, _really_. Promise.

And, of course, SpAqua is nothing without Freud… As Hour Twenty proved… (cough)

* * *

"Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise."  
—Sigmund Freud

The train platform was cold, clouded by a mist typical of an early morning in winter. Roy was shivering where he waited, his scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face and tucked tightly into the pulled-up collar of his wool coat. The coat itself draped down to his knees where his jeans showed through; under them were two layers of socks and the ridiculous long underwear he'd gotten for Christmas.

And he was still cold. His cheeks were flushed, his nose the same, his hair mussed under his hat to complete the wintry look.

But every chill in his body rushed away as the sound of an incoming train echoed down the long station. Children skipping around the benches came to a stop to watch the massive locomotives slide past on their tracks, excitement coursing through them at the thought of seeing a parent or friend.

Roy felt the same thrill, standing upright from where he'd been leaning against the hard, plastic map. _Finally_, the one train he'd been waiting two hours for; the one he'd waited to see for the past week; the one he'd forgotten his gloves for to ensure a good-enough standing place to welcome home the runaway Titan.

The machine chugged to a stop, shoving forward one last yard before sliding back a few inches on the tracks, the gears and brakes hissing in effort. Roy smiled beyond the scarf and started toward the train car's door when it opened automatically, a flood of people shoving him back toward the map.

Standing on his toes, Roy scanned the heads of the group. He could see person after person exiting, but no one he recognized. A good thirty people had already exited—how many could one car hold? Maybe he'd gotten the car number wrong? Or the train?

No—it was train D14603, car 19, arriving at ten AM at Main Station's F tracks. He _knew_ that—he had it memorized—so where the hell _was_ he?

He was nearly willing to jump up and down to cause a scene, if it meant reuniting with that silly, momentarily-MIA Atlantean. There was a hint of shiny black hair by the door; Roy's eyes snapped to it in recognition, only to see a young oriental woman helping her son out of the car.

The platform was beginning to clear of people in a mass exodus of travelers. Roy swiveled in his boots, craning to see everyone.

Maybe… he was still on the train? Roy nodded—he probably just forgot to get his bags ready, as usual. Such a responsible person when need be, Garth always was a bit forgetful in trivial situations.

But then the doors hissed shut, the wheels groaned and the train started along again. Roy took a few desperate steps, silently crying out for it to come back, but it kept going. He spun around, staring down to both ends of the platform.

The heat in his veins had frozen again and formed a weight in his stomach. He felt nauseated suddenly and leaned over, hand on his mouth, a sweat across his face despite the cold.

What if something had happened to him? Knowing his kindness, he'd get off at a random station just to help someone with their luggage! What if he was stranded somewhere, cold, hungry? What if someone kidnapped him—adult-napped him, really! What if he was forced into—

An abrupt weight on his back made Roy stumble forward, gasping. One arm wrapped around his neck, the other around his waist, and a pair of familiar lips kissed a spot of warmth onto the side of his throat.

"Hello," came the inadvertently-sultry greeting.

Roy turned on Garth, grabbing him closer, sighing into the sleek, black hair with relief. "Don't _do_ that!"

"Do what?" Garth laughed, more than happy to oblige with the crushing hug. He draped his arms over Roy's shoulders and threaded his own fingers together behind the redhead's neck.

"Not show up! Hell, that freaked me ou—"

Roy stopped talking when Garth looked up at him, grinning, rising up only slightly to kiss the archer. "Sorry," the Atlantean mumbled into Roy's mouth. Purple eyes rose to meet green ones and both boys smiled.

"Just don't do it again," Roy chastised lightly, pulling away. Garth kept one arm around Roy's waist—neither cared what looks they attracted.

"Well, smiley, are you gonna get up, or should I have Raven call back?"

Roy jerked from the warmth of his dream into the uncomfortable pillows of his bed, looking around and blinking for a moment before realizing that Karen was standing over him, hands on her hips.

"_Who_'s calling?" he mumbled, rubbing on eye. He hated being yanked from a perfect dream into the harsh reality of normal life.

"It's Raven, on the upper deck's phone," she answered, shaking her head with a laugh. "I told her you were sleeping—you missed dinner by the way; sorry—but she said it was urgent. She told me to say 'Cyborg found out,' and said you'd understand what it—"

Roy's pained moan cut her off, making her tense as he fell back into the pillows.

"Speedy," she barked in her patented worried-leader voice; she leaned over the redhead, reaching toward his face when his eyes flickered open.

"I'm fine," he groaned, rising clumsily from the bed. "That's just really bad news. Doesn't help that I have a headache." He grabbed a mask and put it over his eyes on the way down the hall.

When he got into the higher level of the main room, he found the phone she was talking about—a small, cordless one that actually belonged in the infirmary—sitting on the desk near the railing. From where he stood, he could see Garth swimming a ring in the pools; he'd zoom up the length of one and then slip into the tunnel under the walkway, appearing eight feet away in the other pool, continuing along in his circle without hesitance.

"Well, pick it up already!" Karen snapped. Roy jumped; he didn't know she'd followed him.

But he obeyed, holding the receiver close to his ear, turning from Karen in hopes she wouldn't hear. "Hello?"

Raven's voice was quick, but relaxed. "Speedy, did she tell you?"

"Yeah; care to explain—"

"I don't have time for a detailed account of it," she interrupted, "but in short, Cyborg found out that the security feed had been shut off for no reason, and he went to turn them on just when you had your little argument with Robin. He doesn't have a problem with it—actually, he's not even surprised. Something or another about your obsessive grooming habits, I think… Anyway, you'll need to come over again, and preferably soon."

"Wait—_why_?"

She sighed, creating static on the line. "Now that Robin has gotten over himself, he wants to have a serious talk with you about dating a teammate. I think he's trying to save face, personally, but I want you over here anyway."

Roy could hear the continuation of that sentence held on her tongue; the statement didn't seem finished. "Why?" he wondered.

"I… I don't want you to take this as something negative," she started, obviously wavering between saying it and staying silent. "But I know you're going to, and that makes it hard to directly get the point across…"

"Just say it," he said, tone even as possible due to a certain team leader's presence. "It won't bother me, really."

"You're… Well… You know I can read emotions." She paused, taking a breath. "And in the two times I've seen you, your emotions aren't… stable."

"Stable," he repeated.

"You're unsure," she defined, "but that uncertainty is making you have a split opinion on everything, and that makes it easier for you to wrongly choose, even when faced with obvious options. It's dangerous for _any_one to feel that, much less a teenage superhero who's having problems facing his sexuality."

Roy let out a genuine laugh. "Can you say that again, just to see if you can say it twice without laughing?"

Another pause came from the phone, and then Raven hummed in amusement. "I won't say it again; I don't have time. Starfire's taking me somewhere with an infestation of hair products. Will you come over?"

"Sure," he chuckled, leaning on the railing. Raven started speaking again, but she suddenly sounded far away—Roy was mentally five floors below, watching Garth pull himself from the pools. He could hear the slosh of the water against the tile; the drops falling from the Atlantean's limbs shattered into tiny, dark speckles across the carpet.

"Speedy, did you hear me?" Raven was back in his ear.

"Wha—no, sorry. What was that?" He turned away from the pools, making sure he couldn't see the lanky prince drying his hair.

There was a definite smirk in her voice: "What, is Aqualad getting out of the pool or something?"

"Huh. _Actually_…"

"Is he _really_?" she asked, letting out a _Ha!_ before continuing. "Well, I _said_ I'll call you tomorrow to set up a meeting. I'd suggest we go somewhere other than your Tower, but not to our Tower either—Robin would tie you to a chair and make you listen to his hypocritical lectures if he got the chance."

"I'll keep the line open, then," Roy muttered. Raven let out another amused _hm_; both Titans knew full well that each Tower had at least ten different phone lines.

"It'll be hard to do, I know," she said, and then the _click_ of the line going dead ended the conversation.

Roy pressed the _End_ button, handing the phone to Karen. As soon as he went to step around her, she got in the way, hands returning to her hips.

"Speedy," she said, voice low and commanding. "What was that about?"

Roy sighed and folded his arms across his chest. He knew she would ask—why else had she stood there, listening? "I don't think you need to know," he tried.

Naturally, that excuse didn't work. She heightened her glare, lips pressing together until they turned white. "Spee-dy," she said again.

For a moment, he considered just _telling_ her to get it over with. Eighty percent of Titans West knew what kind of 'crush' he was harboring; was there an actual reason why she couldn't know?

_She lives with you_, a voice nagged from the back of his head. _They live hundreds of miles away._

"Is it about Raven?" she asked in a blatant attempt to narrow possible problems down.

"No; it's—"

"You didn't hurt anyone, did you? No," she continued without waiting for him. "You wouldn't do that; you're too dignified to become felon. There aren't any hair products in jail, after all…"

"Bee, it's nothing—don't worry about it!" Roy tried moving around her again with no success.

"Don't say it's nothing. Getting weird phone calls, visiting Raven twice in two days—that's _not_ normal bow-boy behavior." Bottom lip in her teeth, she stared at him again as if the answer would spring out from him. "You're hiding something. I _will_ find out."

He half-sighed, half-laughed. "Bee…"

"Wait, are you in love with someone?" Her eyes went wide and she stepped forward, trying not to grin. "Not with Raven… with Starfire? No, she's Robin's… I _see_ that blush, Speedy, don't try to tell me I'm wrong!"

Roy shut his mouth, holding his argument on his tongue as the opportunity showed itself. If he had to tell Karen _eventually_, it would be better to take baby steps to get her used to the idea. "I wouldn't… I wouldn't call it _love_," he corrected. It _wasn't_ love, after all. It probably wasn't even _like_—just some phase; he'd get through it with time.

"I _knew_ it!" Karen shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at him. "And it's a _Titan_, isn't it! Ha-_ha_!"

"I never said it was a Titan," he mumbled hopelessly, but the girl was resolute in her theory. She wouldn't have listened, anyway; she was currently preoccupied with a victory dance.

"You're calling the Westergirls to get advice on how to date her, right? 'Cause they know her better?"

Roy smirked, nodded. That was sort-of true, though not in the way she intended it. "I guess."

"Well, tell _me_!" She pushed out her bottom lip, twisting her features into what Roy assumed she meant as a puppy-dog face. "I'll just call the Westers…!"

"An empty threat," he laughed, moving back toward the hallway now that she was cleared from his path. "Starfire knows nothing about it, and Raven wouldn't tell a soul. And the guys would be too embarrassed to discuss it," he added, an afterthought.

She seemed to realize that was true: her expression fell into a pout. But Roy was already out the door again, heading to the kitchen to fill his empty stomach.

* * *

So school starts this coming Tuesday and I'm _really_ excited—to such a degree that it's actually rather repulsive. My schedule's a bit daunting, but I'm looking forward to the note-taking, cat-cutting, verb-conjugating, x-finding, flag-waving, NaCl-making hectic-ness of it all. (I'll do my best to continue this story at an equally quick pace, though.)

Question: What SpAqua fanfic did I reference when talking about 'Hour Twenty'? (Hint: …one of you better get that, or else. Seriously. You _wrote_ the thing…!)

Previous answers, in case you were wondering: Sword, 'executioner,' Lucius Malfoy, the letter s, mirror.


	10. Fabrications of the Mind

**Volte-Face**

I hate German class. We've learned all of six verbs in the entire first quarter.

Thank you…  
**APurpleAvacado**- Safe clinical levals are good. xD  
**Symmetrical**- Your review cracked me up. Dunno why... And yes, OTP pretty much means "favorite pairing." It's 'Only True Pairing'... I think...  
**kill the flamers  
Mutou Yasu**- Yup, just a dream. How would they have ended up at a train station anyway...?  
**BadluckGoodluck**- I love when people do that, by the way. So you get a super thanks... (hands super thanks)  
**ferretgirl-1124**- Who, me? An evil little wench? I have no idea what you're talking about...  
**Jinxed Ravyn  
rynnsloveless  
Yu-Yu**- You only fav'd me just now? xD

So, due to band and school, this chapter's delay was ridiculous. Since band is ending with this Friday's game, I'm happy to say that I'll have extensively more time and energy to dedicate to writing. (I seriously haven't been able to write productively since August. Yick.)

Just a fun fact about a test we took Thursday: The literacy of America is sinking. The proof? The national vocabulary test used lyrics to "Status Quo" (yes, High-School Musical lyrics!) to prompt the essay. I don't know if that's pathetic, or if that's pathetic. Or maybe that's pathetic…

Sorry for another obligatory Freud quote. (Heh.) It was either that, or a Doyle quote… which I'm going to end up using anyway, later…

* * *

"The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind."  
—Sigmund Freud

Vividly, but in a definite dream, she could hear the rain.

Raven opened her eyes to the falling drops of water, taking a breath in, her lungs swelling with renewed life. The air was cold but fresh. She was standing somewhere solid—somewhere dark, with a single bright circle of light in the middle of it.

Voices clattered into her subconscious and she winced at the sound of sirens and a megaphone. Figures faded in around her, moving and yelling in voices she couldn't understand. Robin was next to her, shimmering translucently against the dark background. She could see herself between Cyborg and Beast Boy but her back was turned and, from the stiffness of her shoulders, something was utterly wrong.

Raven turned her vision to the other side where Karen stood, hands in fists at her thigh. Each of the two younger boys on her team clutched a leg, faces half buried in her jeans.

Jerking her vision around again, Raven realized that none of them were in uniform. Not only that—but their faces were those of fighters on a mission… But it was as if they'd already admitted defeat.

The sirens came in clearly now and halfway across the darkness, cruisers and officers were settling themselves on a cliff that her mind had only vaguely formed. The blackness they stood on turned into the pitch-colored tar of a parking lot, painted lines worn and faded with time.

And then the ground started shaking. The outer lines of massive vehicles formed, etching their way onto the cliff through the rain and noise.

Tanks. Army-green tanks, followed by a squadron of Armed Forces.

Finally, the creaking became loud and apparent in her mind. Over Robin's voice and the megaphones the police were holding, a scratching, scraping noise rasped over the pavement, and what had to be a herd of robots appeared on the far side of the circle, past the brightness in the center. Something glinted in the horde of clanking; a two-toned mask with an eye on one side and slits at the bottom.

Her perspective changed and suddenly she was just behind a silhouette, viewing the circle from a new location. She was moving without moving, seeing through the eyes of someone else, and she could feel the person's breath catch as the eyes met the center of the circle: the brightest area.

Raven didn't understand. No one was there. She felt her breath—the person's breath—become irregular, her heartbeat skipping and jumping as it bruised her ribs.

Slowly, ever so slowly, a figure appeared in the splotch of light. He'd been there before, she guessed, but the other eyes she was seeing through didn't focus on him.

Roy was screaming, defiant in demeanor, legs spread apart in a furious stance; his hair hung across his face, but it was ineffably him. He was wet and bedraggled, and even though his face was clean-shaven, his usually-trimmed hair was a long mop, his bangs hanging to his sallow cheekbones.

And then her view blurred and changed, and she could only see through one eye. Something had happened—two silhouettes were in the circle of light now, a dark-haired man on the ground while a gun extended toward him from the redhead's hand.

Raven felt her arm raise and—in the instant she realized she was holding a gun as well—pulled the trigger, sending a single bullet into the boy's side.

Raven gasped in a breath, back in her own body, staring up at the darkened ceiling. One tremor wracked through her body and then she was shaking, teeth clacking involuntarily. Her breath grew short and her veins iced over, worsening the trembling.

She pushed herself to stand, a newborn fawn struggling toward the doorway. The sound of the bullet whistling into flesh spurred her to move faster.

It took too long to get to Robin's room, and even longer for her to type in the access code with such quaking fingers. She could hear herself whispering but it didn't register—all she could truly hear was the thunder, the robots, the bullets. The floor still shook from the tanks.

"Robin—" she gasped out as the door slid open. She flicked the lights on and caught her reflection in the wardrobe mirror—her hair was mussed, her eyes wide and insane, her cloak twisted around her neck where she'd neglected it.

"Robin?" She turned to the empty bed numbly. "_Robin_!"

A jutting shriek came unintentionally from her lips as the bathroom door flew open. Robin, dripping wet, stared at her in annoyance; but then he caught her expression and went rigid, taking quick steps to reach for her.

"What—?"

"Robin, he's going to shoot Garth—a-and there will be tanks, and cruisers—and Speedy gets a gun; he's in the middle—"

"What? _Who_'s going to shoot Aqualad?"

"Slade! Slade, Robin! He's going to be there with those robots, across from us, across from the tanks—"

"Wait, hold on," Robin said, expression softening. His tone was urgent but slow. "Raven, you need to calm down. All right?"

"But—"

"Shh…" He gestured to the bed. "Sit, okay?"

"But… he… I… Fine." She took a breath and obliged, watching as he stepped into the bathroom. When he came back out, he was in a white bathrobe, the towel that had previously been around his waist over one arm.

"Start from the beginning," he said calmly. "Was this a vision?"

"A dream—I fell asleep reading—but it was so—"

"Shh," he urged again. "Just stay calm. Why was Slade there?"

"I don't know!" A particularly violent quake shook her slight frame. "He was watching Speedy and Aqualad, who were in the middle of the circle—"

"Circle of what?"

"Of… of people," she tried. "It was Slade and his robots, the Titans, and then the government. And they were all there for Speedy, I think."

Robin pursed his lips. "Didn't you say Aqualad got shot?"

"He did—he was on the outside of the circle, then he went to Speedy, ended up on the ground with Speedy's gun in his face, and Slade shot him…"

Alarm passed through Robin's eyes, but he hid it quickly. "Speedy had a gun… pointed at Aqualad?"

"Yes—I think Speedy knocked Garth down and then… I don't know. But he had this vicious look on his face—"

"Raven," Robin repeated, sitting beside her on the mattress. "Right now, I just need to know if you think your dream… vision… _thing_… is going to really happen; and if so, when."

"I…" She shook her head, still winded. "Azar, I don't know. Why would Slade be after Speedy, Garth, or any of us?"

Robin nodded. "He hasn't showed his face in months."

"But," she suddenly said, "it played out exactly like a real vision would, forming in flashes and solid pictures, switching views and everything…"

"And why would Speedy want to shoot Aqualad? He… er, _likes_ him…"

Raven's blank look made Robin move to his feet and start pacing. "Are you saying Speedy really is imagining his… feelings?" He clenched and unclenched his fists, doing quick laps along the length of the room. "Raven, is this jeopardizing the team? Would Speedy really hurt him?"

She just shook her head again. Her face had grown pale and now Robin's pallor was nearing the same shade.

"He couldn't go to _Slade_, could he?" Robin spat the man's name with foul bitterness. "I mean, making waves is one thing—if they're going to end up surrounded by supervillains and Armed Forces…!"

"I know," Raven sighed. "And I didn't see anything but that event. If it's true, we have nothing to stop what's happening. If it's false… well, we won't know until the moment passes."

Robin froze, turned. "Moment?"

She gave a grim nod. "When Speedy runs away."

xXx

He could hear the bells ringing a low, dreary chime that announced a marriage taking place. Slow, treading through mud, Garth ran down the road, swerving cars and not caring if the crunching of metal were car wrecks he had caused. He _had_ to stop the wedding.

He finally reached the chapel, white doors glowing. His hand burned when he touched the handle but he endured the sensation, yanking them out of his way. The light from outside threw long shadows across the dim room.

Torches lit in a neat row toward the altar, where three figures stood. One of them was the minister, long and elegant in coattails, singular eye roving for the interruption that made him stop. The bronze half of his mask glittered in the firelight, shimmering eerily.

The groom stood to the left, top hat stretching high. In his right hand was an iron manacle, held as if it were fragile. In his left hand was the pale hand of his fiancée.

The bride herself glowed in pure white, the veil hiding her face, her hand offered to her to-be husband in a delicate gesture.

"Place the ring on the bride's hand," the minister continued, ominous voice echoing throughout the empty room.

The groom's mouth contorted into a grotesque smile and he yanked the bride's arm toward him, snapping the manacle around her wrist. She whimpered, but said nothing.

"You may kiss the bride."

The groom removed his hat, flames licking up from where hair should've been, and he leaned forward to kiss his bride.

As soon as the veil was out of her face, Garth felt nauseated. Her ashen skin was marred and blackened, cut up and bleeding in several places. She raised her hand to wipe her face and her entire arm came away bloody, blackening as the affliction spread.

But the groom still leaned closer, kissing her anyway, and Garth realized what was happening. Her skin started to darken and bubble, but she wrapped her arms around him, hands boiling where they touched his hair.

"Stop!" Garth yelled, running in slow motion. "You're burning her!"

The air was acrid with burning flesh and he could suddenly hear screaming, a horrible shriek of pain and terror. His own face started to burn; he covered it with his hands, making them catch fire. He felt his skin bubbling, the flesh on his fingers boiling off until he could see the muscles under them. Something black was moving through his muscles, worms digging toward the surface, burning as they crawled up his charred arm.

"Stop!" he shouted, but the scene blurred and the only thing he could see was the fire, and then a tan face smirked back at him, green eyes and voice familiar.

"What can I say?" the groom said, and it suddenly hit Garth that it was Roy—a burning, detested Roy that was spreading the fire and causing pain to a bride who must've been Ra—

Garth hit the carpet of his bedroom and shot upright, blinking and confused. Breathing heavily, he looked around, the dim light of the fishtanks glowing enough to see that the room was empty—no fire, no couple, no reason to be as covered in sweat as he was.

And then the door slid open, a coughing, hunched figure in the doorway, sleepy eyes surveying the darkness.

"What are you yelling about?" Roy wondered, turning on the light as he stepped through the doorway. He coughed again and sniffed. "Bad dream make you fall outta bed, Fishface?"

Garth adjusted himself on the carpet, clawing through the blankets until he got his legs free. "It was nothing," he finally answered, settling on the edge of the mattress with as much dignity as possible. "Might I ask what you're doing near my room?"

Garth could've sworn he saw the archer blush, but it was a passing fact—any tinge of pink was overpowered by pallid hues. Maybe it was the lighting, but Roy looked sickly; leaning forward where he sat, the Atlantean saw a glimmer of sweat coating Roy's entire face.

Another cough started off the archer's explanation. "Bee said you have the over-the-counter medicine in your bathroom—the ones we had to move out of the Infirmary 'cause it was too cluttered."

Roy could see a smirk forming on his teammate's face, but apparently Aqualad valued health over being right—he had meandered to the bathroom, and from the slamming of the cabinets, Roy figured he was looking for medications.

"Before I gloat and say 'I told you so,' what would you like?" Garth asked from through the door.

"What is this, a restaurant?"

A mess of black hair poked out around the doorframe; the Atlantean's expression was one of exasperation. "What're your symptoms?"

Roy considered for a moment before speaking; in the pause, he took the liberty of collapsing onto the mattress. "Bee said I had a fever… my head feels thick, my throat hurts, the area behind my eyes aches… Is 'feels like shit' a symptom?"

Garth chuckled wearily, emerging with a pair of pills and a paper cup of water. "Take these, and get out of my room."

* * *

Question: What's _not_ going to be in the next chapter? A) Bed-related awkwardness, B) blankets and tea, C) Karen bee-ing sneaky, D) Starfire buying porn or E) naked Aqualad (mm-_mm_)?

(…bad pun…)


	11. Ask No Questions

**Volte-Face**

I think this story's theme song should be Teardrop, by Massive Attack…

Thank you… (This isn't everyone! I just accidentally deleted all the chapter ten alerts... Sorry if I missed you!)  
**APurpleAvacado**- But it's not as dramatic if he just shoots Slade... _(whines)_  
**DL**- Action/angst/romance is my forte.  
**zeo knight  
Xment2bursX**- No, no hot-slashy-makeouts yet... Damn.  
**Mutou Yasu  
Symmetrical**- It's impossible for Raven to vision something happy. That's just a fact of life...  
**Smellerbee**- Oh, he will. Just not yet.  
**Desinere  
Dancing through the Storm  
**And everyone else!!

The answer to chapter ten's question is actually C (Karen bee-ing sneaky), because that's in the next chapter. And yes, that _does_ mean D (Starfire buying porn) is included in this chapter… You'll see.

This is actually a rather long chapter. It's 2603 words. Whoa.

Apparently I have nothing to rant about today… So let's begin!

* * *

"Where there is no imagination, there is no horror."  
—A. Conan Doyle

The first thing Roy became aware of was the sound of a door sliding open and closed, and then the sound of wet feet moving across a carpet. He groaned, hating his mind for waking him but keeping the dream going—in his dream, he'd been in the ocean, and upon finding an undersea cave that resembled the Tower, a goldfish that resembled Karen had begun to chase him. It had been a boring, repetitive dream, and apparently his mind could exactly replicate the sounds of it.

He twisted onto his stomach, shoving his face into the pillow, trying to be rid of the hallucination. But it was still there; now it was the sound of drawers sliding in their cabinets and a low hum, the off-key tune of someone familiar singing.

Speedy raised himself to his forearms, sleepy eyes squinting into the annoying sunlight that washed the room in late-morning gold.

"Oh," a voice murmured, and Roy finally woke up fully enough to realize who had been humming.

He shot upright under the covers, legs tangled in a heavy comforter he didn't remember having. The mattress undulated under him with the movement and, with a grunt, he rocked off the edge of the bed.

Garth's laugh was soft and yet jarring; Roy once more attempted to sit straight, this time having a bit more luck. "Aqualad, what the hell…?"

"I didn't mean to wake you up early," the Atlantean answered, looking over his shoulder at the dismayed archer before turning back to his primary task. He was leaned over a dresser, hands rifling through what had to be some sort of clothing.

And then Roy realized, with an internal groan, that Garth was dripping wet and in a towel. He felt his face flush and mouthed a string of oaths, desperately hoping his teammate would stay facing the other direction. Roy wouldn't be able to come up with an excuse for being red, or for staring at his taught shoulders… and the lines of strength on his arms… and the muscles on his thighs that only a life underwater could explain… and really, just his thighs in general…

…_oh, fuck._ Roy collapsed onto the floor, head landing on a puff of blankets he'd torn from the bed. He shut his eyes with a grimace. _Not good. I think he's sexy._

And then he remembered something. "Hold on. What're you doing in my room?"

"Well," Garth laughed again, "you see… The better question is, what are _you_ doing in _my_ room?"

That brought Roy upright once more. "_What_?" Vision swirling, he looked around the room, finally realizing why the mattress was a waterbed and the comforter was different. "How…" The question died on his tongue. His face went blank and, within his bundle of blankets, put a hand on his chest.

"Speedy?" Garth faced him, clothes apparently located already and hanging in the crook of his arm. The Atlantean's dark brow quirked and he stepped closer, unsure. "Are you all right?"

"No—yes, I mean, yeah… I'm fine." Roy dropped his head onto the blanket-pillow again, face submerged in sheets. For a moment, he had remembered a moment about a year ago when he'd woken in a girl's hotel room to find both the girl and himself nude. Neither of them had had recollections of anything but alcohol. To think he'd gotten drunk, and…

"How did I get here, again?" Roy asked. He was wearing clothes and he couldn't recall having anything to drink since at least a few weekends ago, but his head felt strangely heavy, his mind groggy.

"You came to get cold medicine and fell asleep before I could find it. Why, don't you remember?"

Roy mumbled something into his pillow, and then opened his eyes and lifted his head. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

Garth shrugged, fiddling with the edge of his towel. "You looked sick all of yesterday. I just didn't have the heart to wake you up when I knew it'd be hard to go back to sleep."

Something that sounded like "Thanks" came from Roy as he flopped down onto the blanket. He scrunched himself up into a ball, arms holding the blankets from the inside, and he managed to get himself back onto the mattress with minimal difficulty. He wriggled toward the pillows and sighed at the comfort in the waves moving below him.

"Don't get too comfy," Garth said from across the room. "I'm force-feeding you chicken-noodle soup, at Bee's request. She was looking for you this morning; she needed something picked up from the store and, when I told her you were sick, had to go get it herself." At the sound of Roy's _harrumph_, Garth chuckled. "She went herself because you're sick, but because you're sick, you'll have to endure Bee's get-well-quick treatment." He kicked the bed, making it wobble. "So don't get smug."

Roy groaned, but it was quickly cut off by a hand pulling on the outermost blanket of his collection. "C'mon. I'm done getting dressed, so let's feed you."

Roy rolled over to his other side so he could face the Atlantean prince, who immediately burst into laughter at the sight of the archer in the midst of so many blankets.

"You look ridiculous."

Roy stuck out his tongue, head drooping into the pillow. "It's warm. I like your bed."

Garth smiled and tugged on the blankets again. "I'd invite you to sleep in it more often, but I'm afraid I'd have to get a new, bigger one. I like more room than a double would allow us."

"That could be arranged," Roy laughed, finally untangling himself from his coverings. As an afterthought, he grabbed the puffy comforter and draped it around his shoulders, trotting after the still-chuckling Garth.

xXx

Beast Boy plopped down without ceremony beside his team leader, green brow quirked in confusion. "Where's Raven? I can't find her."

Robin let out a sigh, putting his fork onto the plate as he pulled out his communicator. He flipped the device open and, after pressing a series of buttons, turned the display to Beast Boy. A blinking point was stationed in the middle of a strangely familiar map, obviously an indicator for Raven's location.

"Titans East?" Beast Boy hummed. "Does this have to do with the Speedy problem?"

"Speedy doesn't have a problem," Robin muttered, but his expression said otherwise. "And this is bigger than it seemed before. If anything, it's _our_ problem." He clicked the communicator shut and set it atop the counter, moving to resume his breakfast.

"How is it bigger? Is he going to leave? Did the media find out? Bee's not—"

Robin held a hand up to silence him, head shaking slightly. "Raven had a vision. A dream, actually, so it's probably just imaginary."

"So she's at Titans East to find out if it will happen?" He paused, and then against better judgment asked, "What was her dream?"

Robin's fingers tightened around his fork; he stared at the countertop, unwilling to answer, taking deep breaths to prevent anything unwise from exiting his mouth. "I don't think she wants anyone informed of it. She said she wouldn't even tell Speedy, if at all possible—it's best to keep—"

"To keep things under wraps, I know," Beast Boy sighed, propping his elbow on the counter, letting the side of his face sink into his open palm. "Sometimes you sound like a broken record."

Without warning, the hall door slid open, hydraulics hissing it over its track. Cyborg stomped in, expression one of confusion. Starfire's slight form glided in after him; her face was oddly guilty.

"Hey, Rob," Cyborg called. The Boy Wonder looked over his shoulder. "Were you the one who told Star about Speedy?"

Robin tensed. "About Speedy? No—Starfire, do you—"

"You gave me no time for explanation," she murmured to Cyborg, passing him. She landed easily before the counter, hands clasped across her torso.

Cyborg spoke before she could. "I was talking, and she just _knew_. She was asking where Raven was and I told her 'Titans East, to talk to Speedy.' She was all, 'Ah, to advise him on his newfound adoration for the teammate Aqualad?' and _I didn't tell her but she knew_!"

Robin raised a brow; his mask quirked. "Starfire?"

"After _I_ found out," Beast Boy interrupted, "I told Starfire about it. Maybe I shouldn't have—but dude, she would be the most understanding, right?—and so—"

"And I suggested we test the theory," Starfire said, smiling. "Beast Boy informed me that, by buying certain periodicals and giving them to Speedy, we could help him in his discovery. And so we went to buy them, and because Beast Boy did not want to buy the periodicals and cause himself shame, I did it for him. Then Beast Boy gave them to Speedy, and Speedy seems to have decided that he is not attracted to the entire male race!" She giggled, apparently satisfied with herself despite the odd looks from her teammates.

"By certain magazines," Robin said, glaring at Beast Boy, "she doesn't mean…?"

"Grade-A nude gay porn!" Beast Boy chirped. "She bought a whole stack, if you ever feel the need to—"

A quick smack from Robin silenced the changeling. "Thank you, but no. Starfire, are you… okay, with the idea of… homosexuality?"

She gave him a blank look. "Idea of what?"

"Of being gay," Beast Boy jutted in. "Of two guys getting together instead of a guy and a girl."

"Ah." She nodded, her genuine grin an obvious indication of acceptance. "Yes, of course! It was allowed on Tamaran as well as many other planets in our system, and until recently I had assumed it was actually illegal, in some sense, here on Earth—we have had to stop crowds of protestors for that reason, have we not?" Her head tilted very slightly to one side. "So it is not illegal? No punishment will be dealt to Speedy?"

"No punishment set by the law," Robin answered, "though the public might think differently. People who don't change their thinking to fit the times and the feelings of others tend to protest things like that. It's not as if being gay is illegal, just… nonconformist."

xXx

All of the laughter died in their throats when Roy and Garth stepped through the doors of the main room. A form cloaked in purple was standing by the window, looking out over the bay; she turned as soon as she heard the two enter. Her expression was reined in tightly enough to give away her anxiety, her lips pursed together in a white line.

"Raven?" both boys asked. Roy froze just inside the door, hands tightening on his blanket; Garth was at her side in a moment, but she wasn't looking at him.

She was looking at Roy. This was _about_ Roy.

"Speedy," she said quietly, so that Garth nearly questioned whether she had spoken at all. "I need to talk to _him_, Garth."

"By all means," he answered, stepping aside with narrowed eyes. He watched from across the room as the blood drained out of Roy's face, as his eyes went wide enough so that a white rim was visible all the way around his iris.

xXx

She had led Roy to his room and taken residence of his desk, leaving him to sit on the bed. She didn't speak for nearly a full minute; Roy wondered if that was because she wanted him to talk first, or simply because she didn't know what to say.

"You want to know why I'm here," she finally said in a tone that only increased his nervousness.

But he nodded, trying to keep his expression neutral. "You said we would meet today, but said nothing about the morning—and what's wrong? What happened? You aren't… Raven-y."

"Raven-y." She laughed, but it sounded tense and wrong. "I need to ask you some things and you can't ask me why, or give me vague answers. All right?"

"Is this about Aqualad?"

She frowned. "I said, you can't ask me why."

"Is this about Aqualad?" he repeated. "Did something happen? Something _did_ happen, or else you would've waited until this afternoon. So tell me."

"If you didn't get your way, would you leave the team?"

"I… no. No, that'd be stupid." He put his elbows on his knees. "Does. This. Have to do. With. Aqualad?"

"If you didn't get Aqualad, would you leave the team?"

The question made Roy's stomach tingle. "No. I mean, I'm not really expecting… I don't think that'll… no, it… No." He chuckled. "No. I wouldn't leave."

She sighed, swallowed. "Would you ever turn on the team?"

"What is this, some psych-out dating strategy?" Roy yawned and wrapped the blanket around him tighter. "I wouldn't turn on the team. The team literally is my life—where would I be without a dominatrix like Bee? Where would I get my daily dose of Spanish? Nope—this team or bust. That's it."

"Would you ever shoot Garth?"

Roy's expression clouded; he didn't know how to respond. "Is that… Are you seriously asking me that?" He blinked. "I mean, of course I wouldn't, but… Raven, what hap—oh." He jerked his gaze to hers. "Oh, god. Raven, did you have a vision?"

She winced. It was only the slightest movement, but Roy's trained eye caught it, and understood what it meant.

"Oh, fuck." He stood, hesitating before taking long strides toward the back of his room. He stopped when he reached a wall and then spun, hands in fists, entire body quivering. "Shit, Raven, _shit_. You… no! You couldn't have seen that! I'm not going to shoot him—I won't betray my team! No!" He swallowed, suddenly out of breath. "I… I don't… Raven, what did you see?"

She shook her head, eyes trailing the floor. "I can't tell y—"

"Goddammit, _tell me_!" He turned back to the wall, grabbed the glass of water sitting on his nightstand and hurled it across the room, watching it smash against the opposite wall. "I'm not a fucking _traitor_!"

"I can't. I wish I could, but I can't tell you."

"Why the fuck _not_? I have to—"

The door opened and Garth appeared, looking slightly winded. "I heard a crash," he muttered as Karen showed up beside him, dripping wet and in a bathrobe.

"Raven?" Karen asked. "You're here?"

"I should be leaving now, actually," she answered, standing stiffly.

But Roy caught her elbow, jerking her back half a step. "I won't do it," he hissed. "I'll chain myself to the Tower—tell me what happened and I'll stop it!"

Raven pulled away and didn't look at him. She passed the other two Titans without a word; Karen followed her down the hallway.

Roy sat on his mattress, head in his hands, breath coming unevenly through gritted teeth. He heard the door close and felt a pressure beside him on the bed.

"What was that about?" Garth asked gently.

Roy could only shake his head. Half of him wanted to take advantage of the Atlantean's kindness, to have him as close as possible while it lasted—before whatever betrayal Raven had foreseen occurred. The other half wanted to shut the man out, to yell and scream and kick and tell him to never come close again, because when he did, Roy would invariably hurt him.

"Speedy…?"

Taking a long breath, Roy met the Atlantean's eyes and gave a clipped smile. "Nothing, don't worry about it." _Even though I might kill you._ "Now, about that chicken-noodle soup…"

* * *

_A Man Owned_ will be updated sometime before tomorrow night…

Question: You come to a fork in the road while you're traveling. To one side is the City of Lies, to the other is the City of Truth… but you don't know which way is which. There is a man standing on one side of the fork, but you don't know which city he's from. You can ask him only one question. What do you ask him?


	12. Tell No Lies

**Volte-Face**

I finished writing this at 6:13 this morning, _before_ I went to sleep. I'm just that suh-_weet_.

Thank you…  
**foreveramutant  
GabbyAndHerEnigmas  
DL**  
**Xment2bursX**- The "bee-ing sneaky" part didn't really work out, so it's insinuated... (Darn.) She gets to "bee evil" next chapter though... And I love the sharing-the-bed idea. Roy should take Garth up on that offer, no?  
**Dancing through the Storm  
kill the flamers**- Indeed, the pairing needs more Grade-A love. _(grin)_  
**Desinere  
APurpleAvacado  
FREAKSHOW1**- You know, I never pinned you as a 'Teen Titans' type of person... There's also something utterly ironic in the fact that, the very day you reviewed, I started a ReksVaan one-shot... (Whoa...)  
**Suger-Hype-Queen**- In every multi-chaptered SpAqua story I've written (though most aren't posted), Roy ends up with a gun. For me, he'll never learn... xD

The thing to keep in mind from here on out (but more importantly, later on) is that Roy doesn't know anything about the vision, except that he will betray his team and shoot Garth… which isn't even really true. But that's what he thinks, and so he acts under that belief. Remember that.

Garth quotes valley-girl Cuddy in the first scene… (I just noticed.)

I always envisioned Robin and Raven having a very sweet, caring relationship, where they don't really need to talk to understand each other. Both are strong but also weak, with pasts they'd rather forget… I don't know. I suppose I just like Raven's character… Oh well… xD

((Insert random awe-inspired mention of Perry Moore's _Hero_ here.))

Onward ho!

* * *

"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt."  
—Bertrand Russell

One of Garth's hands held the wooden spoon that idly stirred a pot of chicken-noodle soup. The other hand, though seemingly purposeless at his side, was simply waiting to catch Roy if he fainted. The archer looked pale enough to fall over, if it was any indication.

Truthfully, any part of Roy's current behavior could be an indication. He hadn't spoken, his skin was white and his eyes were glazed and unfocused. He had managed to hold his own until they reached the main room, at which point he collapsed onto a stool with more weakness than he let show.

"Speedy," Garth said quietly; Roy visibly tensed, startled. The redhead lifted his head from where it had been resting on his palm and slowly let his gaze drift to the Atlantean.

"Is something wrong?" Roy asked, tone too even to be normal.

"Yes, actually," Garth murmured. He regretted saying it as soon as the twitchy muscle in Roy's jaw tightened, bulging near his neck. He chuckled forcedly; "You need to get a bowl before you can eat…"

Roy pushed himself off the stool and rummaged to find a bowl and spoon. Garth watched him closely, catching the lethargy that weighed down his movements. He stumbled twice and, upon opening the silverware drawer, got lost in staring at the knives.

"Soup's done," Garth announced to distract him, switching off the burner. He found a potholder and set it on the counter, putting the pot atop it before finding an adequate ladle. "Wait, why—"

"You're eating too, aren't you?" the archer answered. He pushed the second bowl-and-spoon set closer to Garth, raising a brow.

A few minutes passed in silence, with only the clinking of spoons against porcelain as background noise. Roy kept his eyes on his food; Garth did the same, but with frequent glances at his teammate. The pallor of his skin was getting to be more natural, but it was obvious that the archer was still in mild shock.

"Can we talk?" Garth suddenly asked, putting down his spoon.

Roy's gaze jerked to meet his. "I don't know. _Can_ we?"

"I _can_," he sighed. "But you _won't_. Speedy, you got away with not telling me before, and that was fine. But now, Raven's coming over unannounced, looking stunned and afraid—it's scaring _me_, actually. If something is bad enough that it makes Raven uncomfortable, or bad enough that it can leave you pale like this, you have _got_ to tell someone what's going on."

Roy had become still, but now he was shaking his head. "It's nothing, I told you alre—"

Garth slammed his hand on the counter, making the dishes clatter in surprise. "No, you _didn't_ tell me."

"Robin knows, Raven knows and I'm betting Star and Beast Boy and Cyborg know too, or at least they will soon. I'm sorry, but you can't do anything about it, and it's kind-of on a need-to-know basis as it is."

"What is _it_?" Garth sighed, frustrated. "You keep mentioning _it_ but what is _it_?"

"I can't tell you! I don't know!" He let out an anguished moan, setting his head on the counter. "Goddammit," he breathed. "Now I have a headache."

The clack of pills against the counter was earsplitting. Roy opened one eye; "What are these?"

"Karen got you medicine for your cold when she went out to—"

"Bee!" Roy shot upright. "Don't tell me she went to Titans—"

"She went to Titans West," Garth said. "You saw Raven—she looked like a wreck—"

"No," Roy argued, standing, seemingly stable on his feet. "She went to Titans West to figure out who I'm in love with, not to help Raven get—"

"You're in love with someone?" Garth interrupted, catching the accidental reference to Roy's earlier conversation with Karen. "Really? _Who_?"

Roy simply groaned and made his way back to his room, letting Garth's suspicions run rampant.

_It _has_ to be Raven…_

xXx

Hundreds of miles away, Karen was sitting in Robin's office, staring openmouthed at the Boy Wonder. "_What_?"

"He likes Aqualad, or at least he _thinks_ he—"

"No, I heard what you said," she snapped, waving a hand to silence the other team's leader. "I don't believe it, that's what I meant. You've _got_ to be kidding—"

Robin held up a hand, using the other to massage the bridge of his nose. "I realize that it's shocking, but as I said, he may only _think_ he likes Aqualad."

"That boy's straight as the arrows he shoots with," Bee interrupted. "There's no way—"

"Bumblebee, please," Robin said. From across the room, Raven recognized it as his Authoritative Take-Charge Voice. "Let me explain first."

The winged leader nodded, finally silent; her eyes drifted to Raven, who was busy writing something out.

"Raven had a… a vision," he began, calling Karen's attention back to the main point. "And in it, Roy was… against the team," he said gently. "And he was in a—"

"Wait, stop," Karen muttered, raising her hand again. She looked Robin in the eye and pointed to Raven. "Let _her_ tell it." Then she swept her eyes to Raven, solemn. "And tell me _all_ of it. I don't want the abridged version if it has to do with my team."

Raven put down her pen and nodded, toying idly with the edge of the paper. "I had a vision, like Robin said, but I was asleep, so it was like a dream but _seemed_ like a vision." Bee gestured for her to move on. "We were in a parking lot and it was dark, and it was raining." She closed her eyes, calling back the images. "Speedy was in the center of it, standing alone, yelling. At the edge of the parking lot, people were beginning to surround him. One group was us—the Titans, more than just East or West but honorary too—and another group was… well, the government, I suppose. Tanks, police cruisers…" She suddenly opened her eyes, grabbed the pen and scribbled something onto the paper. "There was a third group," she said slowly, checking over what she had written. "And it was Slade and his robots."

"And this was a _vision_?" Karen erupted, slamming her hand on the table at the mention of such a villain. "As in, this is going to happen?"

"Yes," answered Raven, while Robin simultaneously assured her with a loud, "No!"

Karen looked between the two. "Keep going," she finally said, setting her gaze on Raven.

"Like I said, Speedy was in the center by himself, yelling, and Garth was on the edge of the circle of people… but he wasn't with the Titans. He was by himself, sort-of, and he…" Raven's brow creased and she picked up the pen again, writing more. "He saw Roy and he became… nervous…"

"With good reason," Karen huffed, impatient. Robin could see her eyeing whatever Raven was writing on.

"But then, somehow, Garth was in the middle of the circle with Roy, on the ground—"

"'Somehow'?"

"Bee," Robin reprimanded, "let her tell the—"

"_No_, I want to know—"

Raven shook her head, stopping the quarrel. "I don't know how it happened. Visions come to me in pieces, as if labeled 'some assembly required'. Sometimes the pieces don't fit perfectly and leave gaps of time unseen." She shook her head again, apologetically this time. "I don't know why, or how, Garth went to Roy. But he did, and Roy knocked him on the ground—I didn't see that part either, before you ask—and then Roy had a gun pointed at Garth. But then…"

While she paused, deciding how to tell the next part, Karen attempted to form a reaction out of the blur of emotions. "_What_?" she hissed, just before Raven spoke again. "I know he's an ass sometimes, but what hell has to freeze over for him to shoot—_fuck_!" She stood and stormed violently down the meeting room, kicking over a chair at the head of the table. It fell with a crash and she ignored it, turning irately toward the other Titans. "You _saw_ this? _All_ of this?"

"Karen," Raven said quickly, "Roy didn't _fire_ the gun, you need to know that."

The news made her knees buckle; she sank into the nearest chair with relief. "So Garth turned out okay, right?" She caught the expression on the Westers' faces and was on her feet again, palms jammed flat atop the table. "_What does Roy do?_" she hissed.

"Nothing," Raven sighed. She met Karen's desperate eyes and said, clearly and delicately, "Slade… also had a gun. And _he_ shot Garth."

"_Why_?" Karen screeched. "Slade has nothing against him! And—wait, _where_ did he shoot him?"

"The chest…"

"So it might not be fatal," Karen reasoned, tapping on the table now. "Right?"

Both of the other Titans had the same expression, but Robin was the one who answered. "A non-fatal wound is, at best, unlikely." He crossed his arms and looked at the floor. "I'm speaking from personal experience when I say this, but anyone who has dealt with him could tell you—Slade is a calculated, precise man. From that distance, with a still target, using his own weaponry…" Robin simply shook his head. "The odds of Garth surviving are—"

"No! Stop it!" Karen hit the table again. "Why should Slade want to kill _Garth_?"

"That's the big question," Robin murmured. "Why should _any_ of this happen?"

"I'm trying to figure that out right now," Raven said, catching them both off guard. She held up the piece of paper she'd previously been writing on and waved them closer.

The paper had a web of words and phrases, linked together with lines and arrows. In the center was 'Speedy,' with 'Gov't,' 'Slade,' 'Titans,' 'Garth' and 'Gun?' branching off from it. Everything but 'Titans' had notes scribbled beside it. Extra notes, like Roy's appearance, surrounded 'Speedy.'

Karen tapped the broken heart Raven had drawn over the line connecting 'Speedy' and 'Garth.' "You really think he has feelings for the kid?"

"Not by _this_ point," Raven sighed, gesturing toward the chart's events, "but yes."

"You think so too?" she asked Robin.

The Boy Wonder hesitated, but nodded. "He was going on about… _feelings_. And he was making a fool of himself, talking about it—and then he let slip that no, he doesn't think he's gay; his type isn't men, but rather his type is _Aqualad_. He got mad when I started laughing, and… honestly, I don't think he would have subjected himself to humiliation, _or_ gotten so angry, if he wasn't… harboring something for Garth. But," Robin said in a contradictory tone, "he's also _Roy_, the womanizer himself. And then there's this vision—what if he _is_ imagining feelings, because—"

"No," both Karen and Raven said at once. They glanced at each other and Karen spoke first.

"He got a phone call—from Raven, actually—and after he was talking, I accused him of being in love with a Titan. And he said he 'wouldn't call it love,' but he _was_ blushing, and he half-confirmed that he was talking to you Westers so much because you girls knew her—or I guess, _him_—better than anyone…" Abruptly, she let out a laugh. "And he said you boys would be too embarrassed to talk about it—which would make sense…"

Robin let a smile fall across his face. "I don't know about that," he chuckled. "Beast Boy might be willing to talk. He already bought gay porn for Roy…"

"On his own whim," Raven added when Karen raised a brow. "And he actually made Starfire purchase it. But, Karen, that phone call—where was he standing?"

"Observation deck, why?"

The mystic smirked. "Could he see the pool?"

"Very clearly. He was by the edge, and… _why_?"

Raven looked at Robin. "Roy literally stopped listening to me for a few seconds because he was watching Garth get out of the pool. If that's not some level of physical attraction, I—"

"What if," Karen began, grabbing the pen, "Garth went to Roy because he still cared about Speedy?" After adding a full heart below the broken one on the Speedy-Garth line, she branched off 'Garth' and wrote, 'still cares about Speedy.' Silently, she added 'unafraid' to that and then 'trusting.' Writing deliberately big, she made another line off that and scrawled, 'returns feelings?'

"It's possible," Raven murmured.

"Hold on," Karen interrupted, tapping the only other line that branched from 'Garth.' "You wrote that he was nervous and had an increased pulse, jagged breath… but if you _saw_ that, how do you know…?"

"I _was_ Garth, for a time." Raven laughed when Karen's lips turned into a confused frown. "Visions can be shown as if I'm some omnipotent god, _or_ I can actually _be_ the people in them. I was Garth when he first saw Roy, and I was Slade when he…" Suddenly Raven's vision blurred with tears and she could feel her finger tighten on the trigger, feel the recoil of the gun shake through her body.

"Raven?" Robin was beside her quickly, turning her away from the chart, walking her a few steps forward. "What's wrong? You're shaking…"

"A-am I?" She looked down at her hand in Robin's and saw it trembling. "I'm s-s-sorry, I-I just… I just remembered that _I_… _I_ shot… I'm f-fine, Robin…"

"No, you're not," he sighed, pulling her closer. She was shaking against his chest, her breath coming in tight gasps on his shoulder. Robin put a hand on the back of her head, holding her waist with the other arm. His eyes found Karen across the room and he pursed his lips.

"Karen," he said, both excusing her and making her pause. "You can talk to Roy about Garth"—Raven's grip tightened on his arm at the name—"but don't tell Garth"—she dug her fingernails into his skin—"about Roy, and it is of the _utmost importance_ that you keep everything about the vision from both of them." He ran short, comforting strokes down the back of Raven's head as her breathing turned to gasps and hiccups. He let out a string of soft assurances, tightening his arm around her before addressing Karen again. "We'll contact you later today. Travel safely."

She nodded, grabbing her bag and leaving in silence.

As soon as the door closed, Robin tried to pull away from Raven enough to look at her. "_Shh_," he whispered, humming out a breath. "What did you remember?" He tried to step back but she stayed with him, arms thrown around his waist, her hands clutching the back of his shirt in desperation. She hid her face against his chest, eyes turned away from his. "Raven?"

"I _was_," she paused, "Garth. At first. And then I was… Slade, and I… I felt him"—she gasped in another breath—"pull the t-trigger." The entirety of her slight frame quivered. "And I d-don't even know where I—he—_my_ _shot_ hit G-Garth, but I was… _satisfied_."

Robin felt her grow weaker and hummed again. "And _if_ you had been in control, that _would_ be a problem. But you were Slade, Raven, and you couldn't stop that, and I know you of all people would _never_ hurt Garth." Her tremors were beginning to ebb, her tears subsiding. He rested his head on hers, turning to set a light kiss against her temple. "You're the most loyal, protective friend he could have," he continued softly. "So just remember that, and you'll…" He felt her head fall limply against his collarbone and smiled, easily sweeping an arm under her knees, lifting her from the floor. Her breath was even on his neck and her fingers curled unconsciously around the fabric of his shirt.

Robin was in the doorway when a thought hit him—satisfied? Slade had been _satisfied_ that Garth was hit, but he hadn't paid attention to where the bullet struck?

But he glanced back at the chart on the meeting room's table and then looked down at Raven's tear-streaked expression of peace, and without hesitation picked the latter.

* * *

(I'll see you in 2008! Have a good New Year!)


	13. Conclusions

**Volte-Face**

_(hits face on keyboard)_

Technically, I was supposed to update _AMO_ today… (I'm sorry…)

Thank you…  
**FREAKSHOW1**- I am indeed writing a ReksVaan, but it's not quite ready for prime time...  
**Xment2bursX**  
**Insect-Queen**- Ahh! A new slasher-buddy! That's very exciting... I'm glad you're enjoying this! As for the Robin/Raven bit... Well, you'll see where that's leading in a few chapters. A quite of bit of drama happens, and though it's not directly stated, there is something of a Robin/Raven-ness cause to it. (That made no sense... xD)  
**SaoirseWaveglow**- Glad yer likin' it! (I can't spell your name for the life of me... xD)  
**Mutou Yasu**- Every multi-chapter story I touch seems to reek of confusion and plot twists... Sorry. _(looks guilty)_ It's kind-of an addiction...  
**Dancing through the Storm  
The-New-Nightingale  
greetings from lala land  
Desinere**- (Refer to my reply to Insect-Queen for the Robin/Raven question.)  
**Crested Kid  
kill the flamers  
anonymous**- Captivating...? That's so... nice of you to say...!  
**GoldenMerlin**- I'm only good at going slowly because I'm horrible at going fast. _(amused sigh)_  
**Blondi89  
Azur twilight**

Since it's been three months (which is basically for-ev-er), I have a slight summation of things to talk about that may or may not interest you. If you care about what I do in my free time (Freizeit!), then… here we go!

I've realized an obsession with the movie _Stick It_, which has a character (Frank) played by Kellan Lutz who, by chance, is going to be Emmett Cullen, which is the only casting choice that I agree with thus far for _Twilight_. Also, I've gone to see Avenue Q _(oozes love)_ which I think every slash writer, plus everyone in general, should go see. Rod and Nicky are _adorable_ and there are some scenes that are too cute to miss out on. The sweetest conversation isn't on the soundtrack, so you actually have to _go_ to the play to hear it. (It's between Christmas Eve and Rod, and it's about Nicky, and _awwww_…!)

On another play-related note, I've seen _Wicked_ three times in the past three weeks, and I'm actually going _again_ tomorrow. (If you think that's a lot of _Wicked_… Well, you can never have enough _Wicked_. Tomorrow's performance will be my eighth time seeing it. Yeah, it's _that_ good.)

I've gotten into some random pastimes (for instance, looking up Dolce & Gabanna ads or reading the pocket medical encyclopedia (which does not actually fit in one's pocket)). Today I took the SAT—don't believe the hype, it's very painless—which basically wasted five hours of my life, but still…

Sorry, sorry, we'll begin now…!

* * *

"I'll give you a definite maybe."  
—Samuel Goldwyn

Roy slumped into the couch, trying and failing to inhale through his nose. His head felt heavy as he let it fall onto the pillow; he felt horrid, absolutely sick, and as if he wasn't cold enough already, it had started raining. Just seeing the rain made his shivers turn into tremors, and soon enough he was shaking.

A head suddenly popped into his field of view; the Atlantean was leaning over the back of the couch, mouth set into a frown. "You okay?"

The archer stared up at him, snapping out a curt, "_Peachy_." He sniffed—it didn't help—and tried to swallow the coating of phlegm that had settled in his throat. "Karen's cold medicine not only tastes like shit, it works like shit too."

Garth reached down, setting a hand on his forehead. Roy batted it away with a shiver and buried everything but his eyes under the blanket.

"You still have a fever," Garth sighed.

"I figured that out after I couldn't stop shivering," Roy growled half-heartedly, nestling into the pillows with closed eyes. "You're a real genius. When is Bee getting back?"

He shrugged. "She should be back by now… Listen, Speedy…"

"Stop it," the redhead groaned, glaring at Garth as he circled around to the front of the couch. "That's what you use to start conversations. I don't want conver—"

"It's just two questions…" Garth sat down in the tiny rim that existed between Roy and the edge of the couch.

"Aqualad…"

"Okay, first question," he continued, despite the noises of protest. "If Raven only came over here and got nervous only a day after you went over to talk to her—"

"Is this question theoretical, metaphorical, symbolical, grammatical or… real-ical?"

The corner of Garth's mouth turned up into a humored smirk. "Grammatical? Funny, very funny. But really—if her reaction was delayed an entire day, is _that_ problem and this new problem the same thing, or different, or are they related, or…?"

Roy shrugged with one shoulder, imperceptibly from under the blanket. "They're different," he sighed, "and I don't think they're related. They have to be related, though, but… they _can't_ because it doesn't make sense if they are."

"I see." Garth filed it to the back of his memory. "Second question: Does it—or they, I suppose—involve me?"

Roy flipped onto his side, hiding his face in the back of the couch again. "The second problem involves everyone," he said, sniffing. "So, yeah."

"And the first problem? The one you saw Raven about?" He prodded Roy's ribs. "Does that have to do with me?"

An ostrich burying his head in the sand, Roy swatted the hand away and yanked the blanket over his face.

Twenty minutes and two bowls of tomato soup later, Garth had yet to weasel any more information out of Roy, and had only just started to give up when the team leader herself waltzed into the room, composed and cheery.

"Hello, boys," Karen waved. Garth looked up and waved back, while Roy groaned and re-covered himself with the blanket.

"How's Raven?" the Atlantean asked.

"She's fine." _At least, she should be now that Robin's taking care of her._ "How's that cold, Speedy?"

Roy sat up and peered over the back of the couch, scrutinizing her face for hints of disgust, mockery or anger. Unable to find anything but curiosity, he shrugged. "The medicine and soup helped a little, I guess. What did you talk about for so long?"

The grin that lit up Karen's features gave everything away to Roy. "Your little"—her eyes wavered to Garth, and then back to Roy—"problem."

Roy felt his face start to burn and instantly hid it from his teammates, lying on his side with his face under the blanket.

"Is this the first problem or second problem?" Garth asked so only Roy could hear.

The archer grunted, "First."

Bee had walked closer and taken a seat by Roy's head, prodding the lump under the blanket. "You're silly." To Garth, she confirmed, "He's silly."

The Atlantean simply raised a brow.

Karen turned her attention back to the archer, grabbing the blanket so she could see his face. "Really, Speedy, you didn't need to keep it a secret. Not a very good secret, even, seeing as all the Westers know—why couldn't you tell _me_, at least?"

Roy turned slightly redder, if it were possible, and made a face. "Because… you'd get mad?"

"What are you talking about?" Garth wondered vaguely.

"Mad?" Karen continued, ignoring him. "Speedy, I'm _happy_ for you… and I'm hoping it works out. God knows someone on this team needs a break from hero-work, and if it keeps you from moping around like this—"

"I'm sick!"

"—then I don't give a damn who you're sleeping with, even if—"

Roy groaned. "Karen, _please_!"

"So you _are_ in love with a Titan?" Garth interjected. Karen smirked, which was the only response she needed to give for him to once again get the wrong impression. "You _are_ in love with Raven!"

"_No_," Roy moaned, "I'm _not_, I'm not even in _love_, you two are _idiots_…"

"Aqualad," Karen suddenly said, and turned to him. "Can you go find the twins? They're probably getting hungry and I want to make lunch. Ask them what they want to eat."

The dark-haired prince nodded and rose, walking purposefully into the hallway. As soon as he cleared the door and it closed behind him, Karen continued with increased fervor.

"So, about Garth"—Roy let out an anguished sigh—"do you really _like_ him?"

"You already heard all about it from Raven, I'm sure…"

Karen smiled. "So it's true? Well, then, you'll have to tell me if he's a good kisser. Oh, but give him some time, he's never had a relationship before…"

"Bee…"

"Oh, and then there's the sex!"

Roy grabbed a pillow by his feet and hit her with it, sitting up with a grimace. "You've got to be kidding me—"

She shrugged. "Every relationship has sex. And if two attractive people are together, they will have _really_ good sex." She paused, then hummed. "_Ohh_. You want me to call it _making love_ or something…?"

"You're psychotic!"

"So? You're in denial!" She sighed in amused frustration. "You boys and your inability to accept your feelings…"

"_Feelings_?" Roy rolled his eyes. "Bee, you can't honestly expect us to get together! That would never work! He's straight, and I _used_ to be straight, and… and then there's the image the media will have…"

"Media, schmedia. And I think he's gay. He's never had a girlfriend, he's never brought anyone to our holiday parties, and as far as I know he hasn't had any escapades, like you have!"

Just then, the doors opened and the two boys sped through, forcing an end to their conversation. But even though Roy shook his head and silently told himself that Karen was wrong, a tiny flicker of imagination allowed the dangerous possibility that Garth might actually like him back.

xXx

It wasn't far past lunchtime at the West Tower when Raven appeared in the doorway of Robin's office, hair mussed and eyes glazed with sleep. "Thank you," was the first thing she said as he allowed her into the dim room. "What happened to Karen, after I…?"

"She went back to Titans East," Robin smiled, sinking into his chair on the far side of the desk. He leaned down again, pen in hand, unmasked eyes focused on the paper before him.

"So you two didn't talk about anything else," Raven nodded, sitting across from him. She also focused on the paper, easily recognizing the chart that she herself had drawn. "What are you adding to it?"

Instead of answering, Robin simply turned the paper to face her. Around 'Slade,' he had written two things: 'satisfied' and, branching from 'shoots Garth,' 'shoot, not kill?' Raven looked up at him, a silent inquiry.

"You, actually, pointed that out," he laughed. "You said that Slade didn't know where he shot Garth—but that he was satisfied. Slade doesn't _do_ that; he aims, he shoots, he kills. I think he only wants to hurt Garth for the sake of hurting him, but not killing him. And, thinking about it now, there's a good chance he aimed _not_ to kill, just so the wound could stay in his mind."

Raven's brow rose, but her lips quirked up at the relatively-positive outlook. "So Slade just wants to _hurt_ Garth? Why Garth?"

"Maybe he did something against Slade—"

"What could he have done?" Raven interrupted, instantly fervent. "He's never been involved in the same matters Slade has—"

"But maybe, by this point, he _will_ have done something against Slade."

"What makes you so sure—"

"Raven, a Titan is allegedly about to be pursued by the police, the armed forces _and_ Slade," he sighed. "My creativity is growing more and more lenient by the hour."

Raven pursed her lips, staring down at the chart. "But Slade hasn't shown his face in _months_, Robin, maybe even a year or two if those Sturghem Street threats last winter were by a copycat. Do we even know where he is, or what he's been doing?"

The Boy Wonder sighed again. "No, we haven't been keeping any tabs on his whereabouts. We've had other felons to babysit—and that's what worries me. We _don't_ know what he's been doing… For all we know, he could be sitting in a Titans East supply closet right now, waiting for Aqualad to walk by."

Raven suddenly looked puzzled. "Wait. If he wants to shoot Garth, why is he in the circle around Roy?"

He shrugged, bit his lip. "No ide_aaactually_," he slurred, eyes brightening, "I _do_ have an idea. He must know what kind of relationship Roy and Garth have. Or what kind of relationship they don't have, I guess."

"What they don't have _yet_," Raven amended, tapping the words Karen had written. "'Returns feelings,' remember?"

"_Yet_," he allowed. "But that means… Slade wants to make _Roy_ suffer, so he'll shoot _Garth_?"

"It's sounds plausible. But that just poses the question of what Slade has against Roy, and we're back at the drawing board."

"Not exactly," Robin said with a smirk. "Unlike Aqualad, who hid out under the sea helping lost fish or something"—Raven raised a brow—"Speedy doesn't have the most noble past. He and Slade might have crossed paths indirectly at some point."

"And Slade only now wants revenge?" Robin gave her a look, and she nodded to concede. "It's a start, I suppose. Will you check the records?"

"Naturally. I'll send out tracers, too, to find out where Slade's been hiding out these past few months. We'll have to avoid asking Roy directly…"

Raven nodded again, turning to leave.

"Oh, and Raven?" She looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the expression on Robin's face. "Get Karen on the phone and… would you distract Star for me?" He chuckled guiltily; "I just… can't have her knowing. Not that I don't trust her, but… she'd… _talk_."

Raven smiled, looked at the ground. "I guess it's good I'm antisocial. But sure," she said before Robin could argue. "I'll ask her if she wants to go shopping."

* * *

Robin thinks Slade is 'in the closet'… _(giggle)_

We're finally getting into things here, so don't expect this to be ending any time soon. If I can estimate properly, I think it'll be about thirty chapters, maybe more… But who knows, things change.

I feel like I've said that before. Have I said that before? I don't remember… I'm sorry if I'm repeating myself. It happens.

Coming up are things like a Garthy-rant, a motorcycle crash and, more imminent than those, snooping gone awry. Next chapter, a certain someone who I make one-eye jokes about may come into play… I vondah who _that_ will be!

On an additional note, I now have forums! (_I'm_ excited by that… _You_ don't have to be…) I also have a betaprofile, but that's not as fun… Because on the forums (and everybody, **listen up!**) I have a little topic called "SpAqua Hot Potato" which I'd like everyone to check out, if you could. It's an amusing project that I've wanted to do… And if you're reading this ("this" being the thirteenth chapter of a SpAqua fanfiction), you're right for the challenge…

Just sayin'. _(grin)_

Question: Jacob Black or Edward Cullen? (Hint: He doesn't smell like wet dog…)


	14. Pasts Revealed

**Volte-Face**

Anyone who loves Jamie Campbell Bower… Well, I'm sorry, but he's mine. _-rawr-_

Thank you…  
**BipolarPenguins**- I should stop listing you on here... (I already told you that I was telling you that... Whoa...)  
**theKRITIC**- Um, okay, Edward is better. xD But I feel sorry for Jacob, and I like him because he (unlike Edward) knows what he wants, and goes for it... But I actually like the other Cullen/Hale boys better... Huh...  
**FREAKSHOW1**- Also like a drunken house plant, I crack up whenever you review. So odd, yet so funny. xD  
**APurpleAvacado**- You were right the first time, Slade's a bit homophobic... That actually shows up in this chapter, speaking of Sladeypants. (Of course, the whole Slade-stalking-Robin thing doesn't count as being gay, because it's a hatred-obsession... _-rolls eyes-_ ...which he should just keep telling himself. It ain't just a river in Egypt, folks!) Hopefully this hurts your brain less.  
**Xment2bursX**- Oh I know, Slade is basically Robin's fangirl. (And "endearing" is his middle name... xD)  
**Dancing through the Storm**- I think, during Eclipse, I hated them all-- Bella, Edward _and_ Jacob. They were all very "I'm complicated, no one understands me!"... And yes, Garthy is getting frustrated. (Pun intended? I don't know...)  
**Insect-Queen**- I like the movie-Bella, but the movie-Edward (Cedric?!) isn't handsome. He'll look great when he's thirty, but he hasn't grown into his face yet... Hm...  
**Sugar-Hype-Queen**- Indeed, that was the thirteenth chapter. And this is the fourteenth chapter... It does seem like it's been fast.  
**GabbyAndHerEnigmas  
SaoirseWaveglow**- Don't worry, the Robin/Raven thing isn't exactly so obnoxious that you get hit in the face with it. It's subtle, and if you think about it in relation to everything else that happens with Raven, it explains her decisions... (I'm being vague on purpose. xD Is it working?)  
**Cu Sith  
Nyleva  
Fake Is the New Real**- Thanks! Welcome aboard the SpAqua train!  
**gsgerth**

Just as I recommended "Gattaca" (for anyone reading _AMO_), now I shall suggest a book by Oscar Wilde, _The Picture of Dorian Gray_. Once you get past the first page, the witty banter is very clever, and the writing isn't too old-English to sift through. I highly recommend it, for those who haven't read/heard of it. (And then go watch _The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_, simply because that Dorian is _too_ smoldering for words.)

("What _are_ you?!" "…I'm _complicated_.")

And here we go!

* * *

"The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding."  
—Albert Camus

The only light shining from the Wilson manor came from the third floor, a secluded office far from the main staircase in which file cabinets lined each wall. There was a tiny desk in the middle of the claustrophobic room, a silver one that was barely big enough to hold the papers and files spread across it.

Slade Wilson stood looming over the desk, hands clasped behind his back as his eyes scanned each page for something that he knew wasn't there. The chair he had been sitting in was in the corner, pinned between two cabinets, tipped over where he kicked it. A dent the size of his steel-toed boot fractured the back of the chair in two.

The door behind him opened slowly and an old man peeked his head in. "Sir," he said slowly, "are you aware that your police files are being hacked into?"

Slade turned his face to the door. "Hacked by whom?"

"The Titans, Sir." Wintergreen shifted and shook his head. "By Robin. He's conducting a mass search of every database for various queries."

"Robin," Slade repeated. The name was stale on his tongue, bringing to his mind a strange mix of anger and concern. "Can you access the other queries?"

Wintergreen extended a paper to the man, nodding at it. "Those are the queries of his search from the past 48 hours."

Slade stared at the list, amused at the first few queries. Trivial things like new combat gear or jewelry—presumably for a teammate's birthday—were at the top of the page, but as of about one o'clock in the afternoon, Robin had begun to worry about something.

What caught his eye wasn't the searches involving himself—after all, Robin had been running his name through the databases for years without success—but rather the searches involving his past's connections with a teammate named Roy Harper.

"Bring me the profile of Mr. Harper," Slade ordered, still reading down the list. Wintergreen hurried out the door, but he hardly noticed; the queries were changing from past events to more interesting things, drugs like heroin, names of rehabilitants in nearby clinics and a woman in a mask named Cheshire.

_What are you looking for…_ Slade pursed his lips and read over the list again. Another word, one he'd missed the first time, caught his eye: the word 'gun,' paired with his name. An FBI record on his past machinery seemed to be the only match for the query, and yet it worried him. There was no reason for the Titans to be searching for his weaponry now, after months of inactivity. And this Harper boy who had nothing to do with him, and the drugs…

Slade looked up as Wintergreen entered again, this time with a thick file in hand.

"What are you planning, sir?"

Slade shook his head slightly and felt the corners of his lips curve up when he saw the half-inch of blue criminal record forms sitting in the middle of the file. He raised his gaze to his assistant and nodded. "You'll be the first to know."

xXx

Robin winced as the door slid open, letting too much light into his dim office. Squinting against the brightness, he recognized Raven and beckoned for her to come in.

"Find anything?" she asked, picking up one of the many papers scattered over his desk. It was the profile of an asylum an hour northwest of Steel City. "Did he…?" She raised the paper so that Robin could see it, and he shook his head quickly.

"Speedy never stayed there," he said, "although he had ties to a woman by the name of Marie Olivette who ran the place until she was admitted herself. The story's murky but irrelevant anyway."

"What kind of ties?" She raised a curious brow, idly choosing a new piece of paper from the pile to read over.

"Nothing that would solve our problem; he was listed as a witness in a police report for a minor accide—"

"What _is_ this?" Raven shoved the paper toward Robin, unable to mask her horror. "Is that one of his tox screens?"

"From a few years ago, yeah." He looked at her. "Why?"

She stared in confusion. "Can't you read those numbers? He was taken to the ER for convulsions, because not only was he _way_ past the legal limit for alcohol—not that he was legally allowed to drink anyway—but because he had opiates in his system! He _overdosed_ on _heroin_!"

Robin's expression didn't change; he shrugged and murmured, "Okay…?"

"_Heroin_?" Her voice had grown shrill. "_Heroin_, Robin! Why is he a Titan if—"

"He's clean _now_," he pointed out. "For a while now. He hasn't used since before he joined the team. I _told_ you he had a bad past… And besides, the drugs don't connect him with Slade."

"But…" She shook her head. "_Heroin_?"

"Maybe you should read your teammates' profiles more thoroughly," he chuckled. "Or just _ask_ Speedy, he'll probably tell you something."

"No, he wouldn't," she sighed. "I can't ask him anything, not without him interrupting to ask what he's going to do to Garth."

"Wait—you _told_ him?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "He caught on…"

"Caught on? To _what_?" Robin put his hands on the table, leaning over it with a smoldering gaze set on her. "Raven, you weren't supposed to—"

"I was asking him questions," she said, "about what he'd do if he Garth rejected him—would he leave? Would he go against the team? Would he…" She frowned. "Would he shoot Garth?"

"And then he realized what must've happened," Robin groaned, sinking into his chair. He kneaded the bridge of his nose in thought. "He guessed you'd seen a vision and panicked, and then you told him everything…"

"_No_," she contradicted, vehement. "I didn't tell him _anything_!"

"Which is almost _worse_, Raven!" He opened his eyes and, shaking his head very slowly, rose from the chair and began to pace. "Now that he thinks he's going to shoot Garth, he's going to think we don't trust him."

"Do we trust him…?"

"It doesn't matter if we do, or if we don't, because even if we tell him the truth, he'll think we're lying to him. He'll think we're withholding information, and he'll get angry and frustrated and when we try to ask him questions, he won't answer with anything but his own questions, and…" Robin stopped, tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. "This is just _perfect_," he murmured, seething sarcasm.

"I'm sorry, I was just—"

"I know you were just trying to protect Aqualad, but you can't tell Speedy _anything_ more." Robin spun on her, shrugging wildly. "Maybe, by telling him, you just killed Aqualad. I don't know how, but little things can have dire effects on—"

"Now wait a second," Raven spoke over him, insulted. "Weren't _you_ the one who said Slade _wasn't_ trying to kill Garth? And how is _any_ of this _my_ fault? If anyone, shouldn't we be blaming _Roy_, or at least telling him what _not_ to do?"

"He wouldn't believe—"

"He _would_ believe us, or at least he'd believe _me_," she spat, starting toward the door. "He himself even said he'd do anything to keep from hurting Aqualad!"

Robin grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door. "You will _not_ tell him _anything_!"

Raven wrenched out of his grasp. "If your hand is bleeding, you wouldn't bandage your knee, Robin! Isn't that your saying for fixing a problem at its source? Isn't that why you always go for Slade first and not his robots?"

"This isn't the same thing as a warehouse brawl! This might upset the security of—"

"It _is_ the same thing!" She started towards the door, and this time he didn't stop her. "The blood in our dilemma is coming from Roy, and that's what we need to bandage!" She took a step into the hallway, stopped, and turned back toward him. "Robin… If you don't find anything that connects Slade to Speedy in the next day or so, I'm telling Speedy everything."

Just before the door closed between them, Robin gave the briefest of nods in assent.

xXx

The soft jazz of the restaurant seemed to emanate through the murky darkness, providing a background to the calm dinner conversation of every couple present. The club mostly appealed to the high-income business owners and their wives, and therefore many were surprised to find that the youngest couple there, both barely over twenty, was the most reliable; every week, they would come in and sit in the dark back corner, smoking cigarettes and enjoying the music. No one really knew who they were or what their relationship was, although most liked to think—in their narrow-minded superiority—that the two young men were merely friends, because anything more would be indecent.

One man, the older of the two, had an air of intimidation surrounding him. He had dark eyes set below a severe brow, but when he listened to his companion, his lips would curve in a subtle smile, brightening his visage. He asked for the check with just enough arrogance that it was obvious he was used to being obeyed.

The other man, who excused himself as soon as the waiter scurried away, had trimmed golden hair and dark blue eyes that looked sweet and docile, but also clever and mischievous at the same time. His saunter, even as he went toward the restroom, was carefree and graceful, and his features held a continuous smile.

But as soon as he opened the door to the restroom, the happiness faded from his expression. His pulse stopped and restarted, unsteady the entire time it took for him to close the door behind him and say, "What do you want?"

Slade, standing with a gun lazily pointed at him, took a slow step toward the restroom's sink. On the counter lay a thick portfolio with _Confidential_ stamped on the front of it; Slade picked it up and extended it to the man. "I need you for a job," he said.

The man ran his gaze over the supervillain, his eyes finally settling on the folder. He didn't take it, but rather said, "That gun isn't loaded."

"I know," Slade said. "I thought you would try to take it from me. In the event that you succeeded—which I would allow—you would be left with a useless weapon, while I would have three other firearms hidden somewhere on my person."

"They aren't hidden," the blue-eyed man argued. "One is permanently attached to your waist, another to your left boot and the third lies… across your back, or attached to your right boot." He shrugged. "You're predictable, Slade. I'm not as stupid as I used to be."

"And I'm not as patient as I used to be," Slade said, hinting at an unspoken threat. "Take the file. Now."

The man shrugged and took the folder, flipping it open as if he had time to spare. "Roy Harper," he read from it, "Titans East Tower?" He looked up. "This is an easy observation. Why can't you just use those cameras—"

"I need you to put cameras in place," Slade said, tone indicating impatience. "And, of course, collect basic information of the subjects. The description is—"

"Hold on, hold on!" The man chuckled. "You don't seem to get it—I'm _retired_." He accentuated each syllable, speaking slowly. "That means—"

"There is an explosive somewhere in this restaurant," Slade interrupted. "Of course, it has enough power to wound most everyone in the building, but it will only be fatal to those sitting in a three-yard diameter."

The man's eyes darkened. "Where—"

"If this explosive were to be placed under your," he paused to make a noise of disgust, "_friend_'s chair, and if I were to push the trigger for it…"

"Don't!" The man closed the portfolio and held it up. "I'll do the job, all right? When do you want it finished?"

"Tonight would be ideal."

"Not tonight, I have—"

Slade chuckled darkly. "Would you like me to push the trigger?"

"_No!_ No, don't set off the damn bomb." He shook his head. "But I can't do it tonight. Tomorrow night, I'll do it."

"Are you attempting to negotiate?" Slade laughed again, just as the sound of breaking glass and a chorus of cries came from the main restaurant.

The man went pale. He turned and tried to open the door, but Slade had thought to jam the door somehow, and now it was stuck shut. He spun back on Slade, whose singular eye seemed to mock him.

"You'll do the job tomorrow night," Slade finally said. "You know where the pick-up will be, and how to contact me once you're finished."

The blue-eyed man could only stare back, horrified, in response.

"The door is open now," Slade said, in closing. "Enjoy the rest of your evening, Red X."

The man whirled on the door, portfolio abandoned on the tiled flooring, and shot into the narrow back hallway. He took three steps and suddenly collided with someone who had just turned the corner. He fell sideways and slammed into the wall, sliding to the floor in shock.

Then the familiar voice eased his panic as his dark-featured companion kneeled beside him. "Hey," the older man said gently, pulling him to his feet. "You look sick. Are you okay? Should I take you back to the apartment?"

The man caught his balance, pulse still racing. "Nothing happened to you?"

"No, of course not… Kegan, are you feeling all right?"

"I'm… I'm fine." The name of his forgotten alias ran through his mind again, rumbling in the back of that masked bastard's throat. "I just need some fresh air, that's all."

When he returned home sometime after midnight, the door was locked and the windows were closed, and yet the neglected portfolio sat neatly on top of the kitchen table. The ex-Red X shivered and didn't touch it, knowing that the sudden appearance of the file was meant as both a reminder to do the job, and a warning of the consequences if he failed to comply.

* * *

Just a few things to note about this chapter, the first being that _yes_, I will always call Robin by his alias name (not Dick Grayson). That's simply how it is. Also, Kegan (KAY-ghin) _is_ Red X, and he'll have his own little dilemmas later, which Roy will obviously become a part of. His 'friend' is named Michael, but he's not important yet, so don't worry about it. As mentioned, they're about twenty years old.

Now, about Slade: He stole all of the Titans' personal files. He got onto their online database and copied all the information, and his computer is set to run new scans of the files every few weeks. (This is all unneeded information, by the way.) He's never paid attention to Titans East or other honoraries, so he's in the dark about most of them… because he was too busy stalking Robin/Raven...

This whole deadline thingy isn't working, 'cause this is what I get in reviews: "Is the answer pasta?" What I _want_ to get is, "Um, pasta? November ninth, if I'm right?" because that includes a date! So include a date! Pwease! _-mwa-_

Question: …There isn't a question, because my deadline is already set for Friday, during the Carnipalooza update-athon! So tune in on April eleventh! Whoo!


	15. At Dawn

**Volte-Face**

Well, this only took three months...!

No more thank-yous, 'cause apparently people don't like them… Which is weird. (I've seriously gotten complaints. Are you people ashamed to be reading cartoon slash? Do you think your friends will catch you? I don't get it…) If you still want to be thanked, just say so in a review and I will give full thanks where due!

(Xment2bursX, dahling, you must tell me what kind of fic to write you for your birthday...!)

So remember, Kegan is the ex-Red X. (Just in case you forgot.) I think you people will like this chapter, or at least the beginning of it. 8D

* * *

"The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you; Don't go back to sleep."  
—Rumi

When daybreak lit up the east side of Titans Tower, the sky became a perfect shade of orange at the horizon. From there, the color ebbed into vibrant reds, slowly meeting the purples and blues of night that the dawn meant to push away. The clouds, strung horizontally over the sun, were grey at the top, with underbellies lit up with pastel pinks and greens.

But the water was the most brilliant. In comparison, the sky was merely the background to the water's glistening, boisterous morning waves. Anyone watching would agree that dawn over Steel City centered on the beautiful bay that changed moods with the wind, not with the predictable sky.

And for the first time in months that Roy Harper saw the sunrise, his thoughts on the view were simple.

_Why is the sun so. Fucking. Bright?_

The archer groaned and rubbed his forehead, staring out through squinted eyes. He glanced at the clock, mentally cursing the ungodly hour and all the dizzying light that accompanied it.

He tried to sit up, but a wave of nausea rolled through his stomach and he forfeited movement, collapsing back against his pillows. He felt… better than yesterday, but still unhealthy. Karen's medicine could only do so much, apparently.

His eyes traced patterns on the ceiling while he tried to recall everything that had happened. He could remember Raven telling him more than she had intended, and Karen teasing him about Garth… and that was all.

He groaned again, head throbbing. Sickness just wasn't his style.

The subtle hiss of a hydraulic door made him tense, but the shadow made by the intruder was familiar. Roy closed his eyes as lithe Atlantean footsteps made their way closer to his bed.

A hand landed on the mattress close to his shoulder, supporting Garth's weight while another hand pressed against his forehead.

"I'm awake, you know," Roy murmured, squinting up at Garth. The hand on his head felt good, cool.

The prince didn't seem surprised. His lips curved upward before he said simply, "I know."

Roy stared up at him, not even trying to be discreet. He felt feeble but somehow relaxed, and unlike most of their conversations, no tension was in the air between them. It made Roy forget about Raven's vision; instead, his thoughts were on his teammate's features. The sunlight against Garth's face made him look like a porcelain Greek god, from his jawline to his lips to his dark eyelashes, which fluttered when Garth looked up to see out the window.

The Atlantean let out a low whistle, taking his hand away from Roy's head. Garth walked around the side of the bed and stood by the window, creating a black silhouette against the sunrise.

"You're lucky," Garth muttered, looking over his shoulder. "You have an east-facing bedroom. I can only ever see the sunset from mine."

Roy rolled onto his side, propped himself up on one elbow. "I'd gladly trade you."

"But, why?"

"Because the sun _sucks_ when you're attempting to sleep…" Roy sighed, rolling onto his back again. "A comfy bed… No sunrise… Why did _you_ get the awesome room?"

"Because—"

"And don't say, 'Because _I'm_ awesome,' because that's _lame_, Fishstick."

Roy felt the mattress sink when Garth sat on the edge of it, flouncing across the entire end after a moment. Looking down at the Atlantean, Roy laughed; Garth was lying on his stomach, feet in the air, picking threads off the comforter.

"What?" Garth wondered, half-smiling now that Roy seemed in a better mood.

"Nothing," came the answer. Roy tried to sit up again and succeeded this time, with a little effort. "Why are you here, anyway? Are you the new wakeup committee?"

"I'm the new Is Roy Still Sick? committee, actually. Karen sent me."

"Oh?" Roy feigned interest. "And what are your findings?"

Garth shrugged, a bit more serious now. "You still have a fever, which sort-of worries me."

"_Aww_," Roy laughed, putting a hand over his heart. "I'm _touched!_"

"I'm not _that_ worried," Garth smirked, reaching for a pillow. He hit Roy over the head with a tiny square pillow, probably from some fangirl, and sat upright on the mattress. "If you're well enough to be a jerk, you're not that sick anyway."

"Now I'm _hurt_," Roy sighed, throwing in some theatrics. "I thought we _had_ something!"

"Fine!" The prince laughed, making a face. "Next time, Karen'll come in herself, wielding a glass thermometer to stick up your ass!"

Roy pretended to shiver and then continued his distraught overacting, as Garth went for another pillow. This time, Roy pushed his hands away but leaned too far, yelping as he started to slide off the bed. Garth went for the pillow again, and yet somehow Roy's hands found Garth's shirt; the Atlantean let out a low _oomph_ as he tumbled off the bed, landing squarely on Roy.

"Can't breathe—" Roy coughed once everything was still, half-laughing. "—Fat fish!"

"I'm not a fish," Garth argued, but he was grinning. He propped his chin up on his arms, pointedly digging his elbows into Roy's chest. "And you weigh more than me, anyway."

"Is that _necessary_?" Roy whined, propping himself up on his own elbows. For a minute, he expected the nausea to hit him, but nothing came. It may have been due to the dark-haired prince laying on him, but he was beginning to feel better—his head was clearing and his eyes didn't ache, either.

"What, causing you pain for yanking me off the mattress?" Garth blinked innocently but dug his elbows in further, shrugging. "I think it's a little necessary. Don't you?"

Roy winced, voicing a quiet _ow_ when Garth shifted his weight. It really didn't hurt, and Garth must've known that, but it didn't matter. This was just the gentle horseplay that happened when one of them was injured or weak, or somehow too damaged to wrestle and train. And Roy never had reason to notice before, but these kinds of moments felt a lot like… well, a lot like flirting. But this had happened before, just the two of them together, doing little things and making jokes…

Maybe Karen was right. Maybe Garth _was_ into him. But then again, Roy hadn't noticed the flirtatious aspect to their actions before, so maybe Garth was the same way—maybe it was just regular hanging out to him.

Roy's attention came back to Garth when the prince flicked him in the nose, his pale features screwed up into a mocking expression. "Are you falling asleep, or something?" he asked, head tilted.

The archer wrinkled his nose, sniffing. "That _hurt_… I was only thinking…"

"About what?"

Roy let himself collapse back onto the carpeting, clasping his hands behind his head. "Maybe making dinner, for once."

"That's… nice of you," Garth said, suspicious. "What're you going to make?"

"I don't know yet…" He grinned. "I was thinking fish, mayb—_Ow_!" Roy squirmed when Garth elbowed him, laughing. "Do you, like, _sharpen_ your _arms_, or something?! That's ridiculo—_ow_, stop!"

"Make another fish joke," the Atlantean prodded with a crooked smile. "C'mon, Roy, what kind of fish are you going to"—he elbowed him—"_cook_?"

Roy gasped with laughter, starting to shove his teammate away.

"Flounder?" Garth offered. "Salmon?"

"_Steak!_" Roy yelped, "I'll make steak, okay?!"

There was a moment of silence, and then Garth laid his arms across Roy's chest, chin on his forearms. "Steak works for me."

"Thank god," Roy sighed good-naturedly. He laid his head back against the floor again, closing his eyes. "Now I'm hungry."

"An appetite is good," Garth answered. "It means you're feeling better."

Roy shrugged; "I guess. What's Bee making for breakfast?"

"Bacon, sausage, eggs, French toast and those toaster-waffles for the twins." Garth moved to flick Roy's nose again; the redhead squinted an eye open and caught the pale hand. "It smells _great_," Garth finished, but his attention turned to the hand holding his. "You're really hot…"

Roy laughed. "I know, right?"

"I meant—"

"I know what you meant," Roy interrupted. He let go of Garth's hand and closed his eyes once more. "But you _said_ I have a fever, so… Doesn't that mean 'hot'?"

"No, you're burning up…" The worried tone was back, and Garth's cold palm returned to Roy's forehead. "Have you taken your temperature recently?"

"No, but I'm hungry, and that's a good thing… Right?"

The Atlantean looked uneasy. "C'mon, we're taking your temperature."

"But _mom_," Roy whined.

Garth got up to rummage through Roy's bathroom cabinet, while the redhead himself stayed on the floor by the bed. Now that his human blanket had disappeared, his boxers and wifebeater weren't warm enough, and soon he had shivers running across his nerves.

"Mommy, can I have a blankie?" Roy asked when the prince returned, wielding a thermometer.

"Your bed is right here, you lazy bum…" Garth laughed and helped him up. "Here, stick this under your tongue."

"I know how thermometers work…" Roy mumbled, swathing himself in blankets once he was on his mattress again.

"…And don't talk?"

Roy made a face, but obeyed anyway. Soon enough, the thermometer beeped quickly, announcing a temperature of 102.7 degrees. Just as it went off, the door hissed open and Karen poked her head in, curious.

"High fever," Garth told her, saluting her with the thermometer.

"But I'm hungry!" Roy smugly pointed out.

"You're awake before noon, that's what's _really_ amazing…" She nodded at Garth and he left, but not before grabbing a pillow that had fallen on the floor and tossing it at Roy's face.

"Bastard," Roy laughed, sniffing. He buried into the covers farther and suddenly noticed Karen's expression. His own face fell with suspicion, and he glared at her. "What?" he asked flatly.

"_Nothing_," she beamed, in a tone that clearly meant she was thinking about _something_. "I was just turning on the security monitors for this morning, and I noticed some quite playful teasing going on in here…!"

"That's what we _always_ do," Roy said, rolling his eyes.

"You're right," she agreed. "One attractive man completely _sprawled_ across another attractive man is a _very_ common sight; I see it _all_ the time!"

"He doesn't _like_ me, Bee, leave it alone…"

She guffawed. "You were _playing_ with each other! If he had been a woman—"

"And _there's_ your error!" Roy sighed as he fell back onto his pillows. "He's _not_ a woman!"

"But you think he's sexy…"

The archer didn't answer. He pulled the blankets up over his head, which made Karen laugh a little harder.

"Whatever, Mr. Denial. Breakfast'll be done in five minutes, and I expect you there, 102.7 degrees and all."

xXx

Kegan waited until he knew all of Titans East was having breakfast, and then he dropped into the air ducts from the roof. The whole crawling-through-the-ducts seemed old-fashioned, but _walking_ into the Tower would require a few hours of looking over schematics and meticulous wire-snipping—why reinvent the wheel for a mission that he didn't want to do in the first place?

He found the room soon enough; the bed was the only messy thing, but it was obvious a man lived there. Of course, out of five bedrooms, only one would belong to a woman anyway, but the strange orderliness to everything reminded him of Robin's room, even of his own room.

_Slade's scouting him for an apprentice_, he realized as he put the first miniscule camera in place. Kegan had skimmed the file—Roy Harper, alias Speedy, with quite a pile of transgressions—and it really should've occurred to him before, that Slade was trying to take another Titan from his Tower. It had worked with Robin and Terra, but Kegan was bad to begin with and more of a freelancer than anything.

But usually Slade handled his own apprentices, as they were 'too precious' for anyone else to get involved. So maybe Slade wasn't actively trying to get this Harper kid to join him, but the man was _obviously_ interested, or else he wouldn't be so paranoid about the placement of these cameras.

Kegan heard a noise and froze. No one came into the room, but he trained his focus on the cameras again. It didn't matter _why_ Slade told him to do this, as long as he completed to mission and kept Michael safe.

Thinking of the man, Kegan checked his watch; Michael would go for a run and shower before he came over to Kegan's apartment, which gave him a little over an hour to get back. Plenty of time, as long as he actually _focused_…

He managed to finish in a matter of minutes, but was hesitant to activate the cameras. Some part of him felt bad for Harper, and he had the insane urge to get caught and tell the Titans that Slade was scoping their team for recruits.

So Kegan made Harper's bed. It was the best he could do without endangering his own life; Slade wouldn't know that the bed hadn't been made, but Harper would. Hopefully.

A blinking red light in the corner of the room caught Kegan's eye: one of the Tower's own cameras. Kegan waved at it—if Harper noticed the bed and watched the tapes, he wouldn't see Kegan planting the cameras, but he would see that wave.

_Just leave already!_ a tiny voice screamed from the back of his head. _Stop worrying about people you don't know!_

Kegan sighed. Slowly, he turned on Slade's cameras and clambered back into the ventilation duct, finding his way onto the roof again. It wasn't like him anyway, to interfere with Titan business. He was retired from his career as Red X, and needed to stay that way.

* * *

Leave a note, SVP.


	16. Intimations

**Volte-Face**

For the record, a _volte-face_ is a "reversal" or "sudden turnaround," and oui, it's French. (Nice job, Ghostie!)

**lumpster the dumpster  
BipolarPenguins**- Haha, Vol-tee-Fah-say? :D I think we decided it was "volt fahs"...  
**APurpleAvacado**- Nope, no smooching. _Yet._  
**Xment2bursX**- I love your reviews. (Just putting it out there.) They make me so happy... And y'know, I _tried_ to make some joke about the thermometer, but it just wouldn't work no matter what I did! Which was a letdown, obviously. But I'm glad you caught the innuendo on your own... Thermometers are extremely sexual objects, that's all it is.  
**FREAKSHOW1**- Haha, "knave"...  
**Arwen16  
GoldenMerlin**- I'm glad you're beginning to like reading complicated, long stories... because I love writing them. ;)  
**A Forgotten Ghost**- The denial kills me too... but I thrive on it. And I love how you reviewed 3 times... You're adorable. xD  
**Mutou Yasu**- Michael is Kegan's boyfriend. :D See the "Previously, on _Volte-Face_" section below...  
**meurchan  
Symmetrical  
Mizaz**  
**Black Ice**- I'll try to keep Kegan and Michael safe, then. :)  
**des-ka  
Yun-Ah  
D Willims  
Only Forever**- Where to even _begin_! "Thank you" can't cover it... I'm sorry I distracted you from your English book (How long did it take you to read 15 chapters _and_ write a monster-sized review?!) but I'm glad you fully enjoyed yourself, at least! And then you succinctly showered me with ridiculous amounts of praise, and made my day, and... Well, I guess I just hope the rest of the chapters will be just as pleasing (and updated a little faster)!

(Thanking nobody just doesn't work out for me. 8D)

I'm incredibly sorry for the wait. July to December is _far_ too long… And I'm especially sorry it wasn't up by November 23rd. I feel really bad about that (it _was_ my intention… but my intentions were forgotten amidst my schoolwork). The fact is, I write most of a chapter, and then the last 500 words can't seem to make it into a Word document, and then the chapter gets lost completely, and… But five months is absurd. I'll try to do better, okay? Don't let me _not_ update!!!

Previously, on _Volte-Face_: Kegan is the ex-Red X and, to clear up the confusion, Michael is Kegan's boyfriend. (I didn't mention that earlier, so your stupefaction was warranted. I assumed the conversation about "love" and "Michael" and "Robin's problem with gays" would be clear enough.) Raven had a vision, which Karen and Robin are informed of. Roy (who currently has a cold) and Garth don't know very much. Raven said she'd tell Roy about the vision if Robin couldn't find a link between Slade and Roy. Kegan (Red X) put cameras in Roy's room because Slade threatened him into it, but he purposely got himself caught on the security cameras, because he's a sweetheart. (I hope that helps all you senile young people. :D)

On one last note (I _swear_ I'm almost done!), the quote is 90% foreshadowing, so wait until the end of the chapter to think about it. The connection is _not_ subtle.

Let's begin!

* * *

"The smallest fact is a window through which the infinite may be seen."  
—Aldous Huxley

Speedy wasn't quite as put-together as he normally was when Robin came into the conference room, but the Boy Wonder quickly noticed the red nose and sniffling, and ignored the difference in appearance. There were more important things to discuss, like Roy's sudden arrival at the West Tower.

"Raven said you brought a video of some kind?" Robin asked. He sat at the head of the table as Roy took a tiny silver cassette from his pocket.

"I brought this," Roy muttered, putting the tape into the machine, "but I don't know what it means. No one has seen it but me, and now you. Karen wouldn't let me out of the Tower if she knew."

"Knew what? Why wouldn't…" Robin quieted when the tape started. "Wait—what does your room have to—"

"Look at the time stamp," Roy directed. The screen twitched black for a moment, and the clock in the corner jumped forward a few minutes when the room returned to normal.

"It was just a glitch," Robin shrugged. "It happens."

He rewound the tape. "Now watch my bed." During the blackout, the crumpled covers and splayed pillows became abruptly pristine. Roy paused the tape and pointed profoundly at the screen. "See?"

"Am I supposed to be shocked you made your bed?" Robin laughed. "Bravo?"

"You're a dumbass," the archer groaned, playing the tape. "I was at breakfast while this was happening. Now look"—a man appeared on the screen—"right there."

"Stop the tape," Robin murmured, standing to move closer to the image. He squinted at the waving person. "Give me the remote," he ordered, and Roy complied. The leader zoomed on the man's face with a sigh.

"D'you know who he is?"

Robin nodded, mouth agape. "But what is he doing in _your_ room? Especially since he's…" He shook his head. "I can't believe this."

The door opened behind them, and Raven appeared in it. Robin shut off the screen and turned toward her, but Raven threw him a dark look.

"What was that?" she asked, leaning in the doorway to get a better look at them both. "Why can't I see what you were just—"

"Not yet," Robin told her, holding up a hand. "Can you take Roy for a while? Make him some tea or something—he's sick—while I make some calls."

"I don't need her to _babysit_ me," Roy argued. "You aren't even going to tell _me_ what you know?"

"I need to make some calls," Robin repeated with more emphasis. "But Raven? I may have found our link."

"What the hell does _that_ mean?" Roy asked, but Raven had already begun to tug him into the hallway. "Hey—no—wait a second—"

Robin turned back to the screen after the door closed, taking one last look at the man on it before he ejected the tape and got out his phone.

—

Kegan should've known better than to go out in public after doing a favor for Slade, but Michael had stayed at his apartment until late in the afternoon, when Kegan was supposed to get dressed and leave for his job at a little French eatery downtown. There was no way for him to tell Michael he wasn't going into work without explaining _something_—even after being a criminal for so many years, Kegan couldn't lie to people who knew him—and so there he was at four o'clock sharp, in his white shirt and black pants, a tray of steaming appetizers balanced on his palm.

Trouble didn't surface at the restaurant until half an hour later, when one of his coworkers said someone had asked for him at table 12—a real creep, apparently, all incognito in sunglasses and a dark jacket.

Kegan swept toward the table, hoping that it wasn't one of Slade's minions, hoping that maybe the minion wouldn't have the audacity to kill in such a public location. But when he saw the supposed 'creep' in the booth, he started laughing, and sunk into a seat across the table.

"Wow," Kegan grinned. "If it isn't little Dickie Grayson… It's been too long, kid."

"Do I still qualify as a kid?" the Boy Wonder asked. "I mean, it was okay when I was 14, but now…"

Kegan chuckled. "What can I do for you?"

Robin took the cassette from his pocket and slid it across the table. His expression was serious again. "You can tell me what you were doing in one of my teammate's rooms this morning, or why you blatantly waved at the camera, or made his bed. Aren't you retired?"

"Ah, the Harper kid…" Kegan shrugged. "It was a plant job—for bugs, cameras, whatever."

"Who sent you?"

Kegan rolled his eyes. "Who else would want a plant job, Grayson? It was Slade."

"But you're retired, aren't you?"

Kegan played with the button on his sleeve and shook his head, meeting Robin's gaze only after a long minute. "When the bastard wants something done, he makes sure it gets done. I had to keep my new life separate from my old life. You wouldn't get it."

Robin snorted. "You wanted to keep your new life separate, so you jumped right back into your old one?"

Kegan's expression hardened, a rare glimpse of his solemn self. "I wanted to keep my new life _safe_," he explained slowly. "When you're having a nice dinner and he has a bomb planted under the seat of your date's chair, you do what he tells you. It's never black and white, kid. _Never_."

Robin sighed, taking off his sunglasses to rub his eyes. "So Michael knows everything about you?"

Kegan went abruptly still. "How—"

"I did a background check before I came here, just to make sure you weren't completely in league with Slade. The name came up, I looked into it, but it's not like I hunted him down."

"Oh." The blonde wasn't entirely assuaged, but it was better than the answer he was expecting. "And the answer is no, he doesn't know anything. That's what I meant by keeping my new life separate. He doesn't know, and I have no intention of telling him. So don't get any ideas, got it?"

"Got it," Robin said with the slightest laugh. "And I don't suppose Slade gave a reason for the job…"

"None, sorry." Kegan ran his hands through his hair, mussed it a little. "He gave me the Harper kid's file, but it was gone as soon as I got back home. It just had his history, police record—which is impressive, for a Titan!—height, weight, news articles… Anyone with a brain could get that info."

"You can't think of a reason why? At all?"

Kegan sighed. "Grayson, I'm thinking the same thing you are. He probably wants a new apprentice. I don't suppose the Harper kid is making waves among the team, is he? You _know_ that Slade can smell team conflict a continent away…"

Robin frowned. He had had that thought himself, but hearing someone else confirm it as a possibility made the situation seem worse. "He's not making waves, exactly…"

"But…? You think he will," Kegan guessed. "You found a seer that had a vision, right?"

"It was Raven. And I think it might turn bad, really ba—"

Kegan slammed a hand on the table. "Don't you dare tell me anything," he said quickly. "If you tell me, that bastard Slade will find out, and then he'll do things—"

"Michael will be in danger and you'll have to tell Slade what I said. I understand." Robin nodded grimly. "Love is a weakness."

Kegan laughed. "Not when you have a warrior princess like Starfire, it isn't. But _I_ have a _lawyer_—not exactly the fighting type." He thought for a second, and gave a crooked grin. "Since when are you so cool with gays, Grayson? Last time I checked, the Bat raised you straight as an arrow. Have you been toeing the line, kid? Trying out the greener side of the fence? Coming outside the closet for some—"

"_No_," Robin said firmly. "There's just been… interesting developments on the team recently."

"You already flipped your shit about it, then." Kegan picked up the tape and began yanking out the film. "Am I right?"

Robin had to chuckle. "I admit," he said agreeably, "there may have been a little bit of shit-flipping. What _are_ you doing with that tape?"

"Getting rid of it." Kegan ripped the last of the brown film from the cassette and piled it neatly inside an ashtray, setting it on fire with the lighter from his pocket. "That okay with you?"

"Sure. A little warning might be nice though, if—"

"Hey Kegan," a voice called from a few steps away. It was a waiter with a tray full of drinks, and he didn't look happy. "If you don't mind, could you maybe _work_ a little, not just chat? Your friend can come back during break."

"Yeah, sorry," Kegan said, sarcasm hidden in his sincerity. He turned back to Robin once the waiter was gone. "New guy, complete asswipe, but he's right. You know how to find me, Grayson."

Robin stood, shook the hand Kegan had extended. "But I hope I won't need to." He sighed, replacing his sunglasses before disappearing into the street.

—

Karen froze in the doorway of the main room, spotting the crouching twins as soon as she stepped through the hydraulic doors. Mas beckoned her over while Menos held a finger to his lips, keeping her silent.

"What're you doing?" she whispered, and then something fluttered by the couch. Karen jerked upright to see the Atlantean perched on the sofa, magazine in hand, staring her down with a black gaze. The twins scampered into the hallway, giggling to themselves.

"What were they doing?" Garth asked, sitting straight.

She shrugged and went toward the refrigerator. "Being little weirdoes? Watching you? I have no idea. D'you want a soda?"

"No."

The tension in that single syllable was apparent; Karen closed the fridge and sighed. "What now?"

Garth looked surprised. "What?"

"_Boys_," she muttered to herself, taking a seat by him on the couch. "What's wrong with you now? What did Speedy do?"

"What makes you think _he_ did something?" His voice was laden with stress, and he knew it as soon as the words left his mouth. Karen shot him a dark look. "Fine," he conceded, "I'm frustrated, but I don't know why. Maybe it has to do with Speedy, maybe it doesn't. It's just…" He shook his head. "I don't know. I just _don't know_."

Karen's lips drew into a tight line. "Well he's sick, so if he's being weird, it's only temporary." _Or it could be because he likes you too much, or because he's about to betray the team. Either way._

Garth nodded a little, unconvinced.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered.

"I don't know what to say." He tossed his magazine onto the coffee table and wandered to the enormous windows, looking out over the bay. "By Poseidon, I just want to know what's happening to everyone. Speedy's in love with someone, and that's somehow a problem—but I don't know who or why—and Raven keeps intervening, and you all know something I don't." He looked over his shoulder. "Why can't I know?"

Karen's expression was soft with sympathy, her tone gentle. "We're just taking orders from Robin. It's… it's his department, you could say."

"Is it Slade?" Aqualad turned around fully, surprised. "Slade's back?"

"No," she said, but then after a moment, "Kind of. We don't know. Raven had a vision."

"About Roy? That's why he keeps going to see her," he said without waiting for affirmation. "Slade's… after him? What did Roy do?"

Karen frowned a little, crossing her arms across her chest. "I'm sorry we're keeping things from you," she said after a long minute. "But I _really_ can't talk about this with you, at least not yet."

"So you'll tell me eventually?" Garth asked.

His question seemed optimistic, and Karen had to nod. Truthfully, she didn't know when _eventually_ would come, or when Robin and Raven would figure this all out… or even if the vision would come true. It was the least she could do to keep her team sated. "When Speedy gets back," she said abruptly, when Garth started to leave the room, "try not to pressure him… He's sick, he's lost, and he needs _friends_, not interrogations. Which, unfortunately, is all the Westers are doing."

"I'll play nice—but why are Robin and the gang taking this _that_ seriously?"

Bee had to think, and to censor, before she said anything. "They _have_ to, if Raven's vision is really coming true."

"So it's b—"

"Aqualad, I really can't…" Karen got up from the couch, shaking her head. "If I could tell you—"

"By the gods, I understand," Garth laughed, holding up his hands, turning back toward the hallway. "No use alarming the peanut gallery when you guys don't know anything. I'll lay off Speedy, all right?"

Karen watched his retreating back until the doors closed behind it, nodding slightly to herself. And yet there was a feeling nagging at the back of her mind, trying to tell her that there was something more to the story, that something was about to go completely wrong. Maybe it was because she lied to Garth—but maybe it was because she had _told_ the Atlantean that small amount of info, even when the Westers had expressly told her _not_, under _any circumstances_, to give out information regarding Roy. Still, what harm could such insignificant facts do?

_It's just guilt_, she surmised. _Nothing to be anxious about…_

* * *

So I know Kegan's just getting into this story, and you don't know him/Michael very well, but I'll just say now that 1. he's going to be a big part of this story, 2. you'll end up loving him (because I do!), 3. he _will_ have his own troubles, and lastly 4. I might end up writing an entire story about him once Volte-Face is over. (Of course, V-F won't be over for a _long_ time…) It would start way back when Kegan was 17 and show how he met Michael (which I know, and you don't :P), etcetera etcetera. The only difference would be their ages… because I liked them better when Kegan was the jailbait teen that Michael fell in love with while on a court case. (Which, once again, _I_ know about, and _you_'re just waiting for me to stop rambling.) Ah well.

Actually, you know what? I just remembered that "Kagan" was Rayne's father in Bloodrayne. Maybe that's where I heard the name... (Huhhh.)

For this chapter, I highly recommend "Torchwood" as a TV show. It's a spinoff of Dr. Who (which I've never seen), but John Barrowman is the sweetest, funniest, most endearing man on the planet. And he goes both ways, so that's always fun. (Insert plug for Jack/Ianto here…) I would honestly move to the UK _just_ to watch season three in 2009…

The Volte-Face formula:  
_Carnifax_ PLUS _reviews_ EQUALS _happy Carnifax!_ EQUALS _chapter 17!_


	17. The Other Seer

**Volte-Face**

Does anyone else find it coincidental that I'm posting the 17th chapter for my 17th birthday?

Thank you…  
**Moonlit Lightning**- Robin? Jerkish? He's just kind of... a prat. Frequently. :)  
**Xment2bursX**- I'm currently laughing too hard from re-reading your review to even think of a coherent response. I love you. xD  
**BipolarPenguins**- You're a very strange child......  
**A Forgotten Ghost  
des-ka  
godborn  
APurpleAvacado**- I highly enjoyed your use of the word "joo-joo." And "cotton." :D  
**Mutou Yasu  
It Ain't Just A River In Egypt**- Have I ever said how much I love your name...  
**Shutter Shades  
FREAKSHOW1**- Poor communication does worse than kill, it also ruins the possibility perfectly good spaqua romances...  
**homicidalgummibear  
Weeble Wobble Chic  
Liyah the Dutchess**  
**Vertical Lie  
sleepyjane  
Rosalie-wannabe  
Itami Yatake**- You are too nice. :D  
**0dd0ne0ut  
heavenmidori**- You didn't hear this from me.... but chapter eighteen will be up next week. Shh! :)  
**Bizerko-Kittykins  
PyroPixie  
Astrum Ululatum**- You win this chapter's award for "Being Able to Realize What Carni Wants You To Realize," because you're one of the few so far who sees (or at least, has said in their review) the links between everyone! :D Also, I presume you're a Latin student? (That wins points too. Aves pennae...)  
**Ivorydrum**

Funny story about the reviews last time: I think I got more replies about my Torchwood obsession than the chapter itself. xD

Part I of Carnipalooza 2009. It's starting…!

* * *

"It takes all the running you can do to keep in the same place."  
—Lewis Carroll

It was never a surprise when Wintergreen worked quickly and efficiently to accomplish his master's goals. That's what he was paid to do, and where the money didn't lead him, the loyalty he had to Slade took over. Under his watch tasks were managed, tangibles attained, threats given accordingly.

But it _was_ a surprise when Wintergreen returned to the mansion's library that afternoon with a young woman in tow, just minutes after Slade asked the man to find a psychic.

"Excuse me, Sir," Wintergreen said in his slow, even drawl, sweeping an arm toward the guest. "Allow me to present Miss Ivy Pierce. I believe she has the skills you're looking for."

Slade put down the mechanics book he had been paging through and stepped away from the shelves, hands clasped behind his back. "That was… prompt of you, Wintergreen." The words formed an accolade, but his voice was laced with doubt.

"Sir, I barely left you when there was a ring at the front gate." He nodded toward the woman. "She gave me your name and personal history as well as a verbatim version of your request for a seer. Which, I might remind you, had only just been uttered by you yourself."

Slade raised a brow, the edge of his lips curving up. "A seer who sees her own clients?" he asked, extending a hand to the woman. "Then I suppose you already know what I want you to tell me… Miss Pierce, was it?"

She gave his hand a strong shake and nodded. Now that their eyes had met, Slade felt uneasy about her abilities. Her right iris was normal—a hazel color that was benign, almost bland—but her left iris was black as pitch, with a single white streak forming a vertical radius. By the time his subconscious had barely formed the question, she was already beginning to answer.

"Yes, I'm conceptually blind in that eye," she said evenly, smoothly taking a seat in one of the arranged lounge chairs. "I can see the present with one, and the future with the other. And the past is simply in my memory. It's both a blessing and a curse."

"A curse?" Slade asked, dismissing Wintergreen with his hand. "How so?"

"The future is always changing, based on the shifting opinions and decisions of its participants. Before your servant explained who I was, you were planning on giving him the code word for 'Dispose of her,' and I could see myself dying in my left eye. But as soon as you gained some approval of me, I saw myself being directed to sit down and make myself comfortable." She smiled, watching his expression change to a further degree of unrest.

But Slade didn't notice this smile. "You said you're blind—conceptually. Not physically, but conceptually. Why?"

She thought for a moment. "Imagine two computer screens placed side-by-side. On one, data is scrolling past at high speeds, never stopping, unable to be controlled unless you really put effort into it. On the other, your garden variety television shows are airing. That's how my eyes work. One continually shows the future and can't be accessed unless I focus. The other eye is normal—it sees what you see, at normal speed, with normal color and no subtitles." She smiled again. "I can't see the present with my left eye, that's what makes me _conceptually_ blind. And yes, it's sometimes very tedious. Imagine making love to someone while witnessing their tragic death at the same time. Inconvenient, wouldn't you say?"

Slade cleared his throat, and opened his mouth to speak. But once again, she cut him off with the answer.

"Of course, let's stop the idle chatter and move on. Tell me what you want to know."

He narrowed his eyes. "You already know what I'm going to ask."

She shrugged. "I can tell you several different paths to take, all of them leading to a separate end. When you ask the questions, you're selecting your way, and I can hone in on a specific event as soon as it falls into place. But I believe your main goal is something to do with the boy, Roy Harper, also known as Speedy, member of Titans East Tower."

At that, Slade smirked. "What would be the best step for meeting him?"

She extended her hand to him until he cooperated and placed his hand in hers. Closing one eye—presumably to focus on the future images better—she hummed slightly, her all-black eye twitching, scanning, watching an unrealized scene playing out before her.

Then she let go of his hand and blinked both eyes at him. "Do you have any medical kits on standby?" she asked. "Of course you do; you even keep surgeons and practitioners on standby. Keep enough supplies to mend a sprained wrist and sanitize a few cuts, and keep them within ten minutes of the bend on Interstate 84. A blanket as well," she added as an afterthought.

Slade opened his mouth to inquire further, but she held up her hand to stop him.

"Don't question me. I'll contact you when you should report to the said area."

"You want me to meet him on a cliff in the middle of nowhere?" He massaged the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Titans aren't exactly common in places like tha—"

"Just trust me," she murmured, standing. She shook his hand and smiled. "Besides, I never said he would be _on_ the road. Quite the contrary. You'll be looking at the _bottom_ of the cliff, a young man with a battered motorcycle." Her giggle was almost mocking. "Why do _think_ you need medical supplies?"

Without another word, or even time for Slade to comment, Ivy Pierce swept from the library.

"Wintergreen," the man said quietly. His butler appeared in a doorframe to his left, hands clasped behind his back. "You heard her orders, I take it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Follow them." Slade exhaled a deep breath. "Implicitly."

—

Violet eyes were staring at Roy when he woke up, the deep purple seeping through between dark lashes and juxtaposed against pale skin.

Roy just groaned and covered his head with blankets. It elicited a laugh from the Atlantean, who seemed to be crouched beside the bed with his chin resting serenely on his forearms. Lithe fingers pulled the blankets away from Roy's face easily.

The archer blinked against the light, nuzzling his face into the pillow. Incoherent, he murmured, "If you keep being the first thing I see in the morning… I might get too used to it."

Garth chuckled, bringing Roy a little farther out of his disorientation. "Is that a pick-up line you use often?"

Roy cracked an eye open. "Wha… What'd I say? I can't… remem…" He yawned, burying himself into the covers again.

"Nothing, nothing. And it's not morning. It's practically dinnertime, Sleeping Beauty."

His green eyes flew open, apparently remembering the events of the day. "Did Robin call yet?" he asked, pushing himself onto his elbows. But instead of an answer, Garth put a hand across his forehead for what felt like the fiftieth time in the past day.

"Your fever's gone," Garth announced, granting him a broad grin.

Roy only rolled his eyes. "That's great. Did Robin call yet?"

The prince shook his head, shrugging one shoulder. "But did you really expect him to? He's probably fact-checking whatever you wanted to know. And then fact-checking again, just in case. You know how he is."

Sitting up, Roy squinted at his teammate. He seemed to realize something. "Why are you here? Just… watching me sleep?"

"That would probably count as stalking. No, nothing creepy like that," Garth laughed. "Karen and the twins went out for pizza. Menos was too hungry to wait for you to wake up."

"M'sorry."

"You're sick—that's nothing to apologize for. I stuck around to make sure you ate something decent." He drummed his fingers on the mattress and gave Roy a brilliant smile. "Hungry?"

"You want to go out to eat." Roy groaned and rubbed his eyes once more. "I'm just so tired…" He pulled the blanket over himself, head on the pillow again, eyes closed. But then he cracked one green eye open when Garth's hand found its way into his hair, tenderly mussing the red-orange strands.

As much as Roy hated to admit it, Karen's analysis of their interactions was absolutely right. Especially then, looking intently into a violet gaze, allowing pale fingers to tug affectionately in his hair, Roy could see how the way he and Garth acted around each other might be misconstrued as blatant flirting. Which, he considered, it might be—but only one-sidedly. Of course Garth didn't think anything of it. This was just a close friendship on his part, and Roy fully intended to keep him in the dark about any other possibility.

He was yanked from the feeling of total contentment when his communicator began beeping. Garth was already halfway to the door by the time Roy could even reach for the noisy device, probably to give him privacy. The T-comm display read _Call from: D. Grayson_, and somehow those few words made Roy's anxiety flood back in one enormous wave.

"Robin?" he answered. Garth stopped in the doorway, clearly curious about Dick's news; Roy idly beckoned him back into the room.

"_Roy, get out of your room._"

The gravity of the sentence made Roy clamber out of bed and grab Garth by the wrist, leading him hurriedly into the hallway. "What's going on?" he asked.

The indisputable tone gave another order: "_Go to the garage._"

"Dick, tell me what's going on," Roy said slowly, but he obeyed. "Why do we have to—"

"_I need you out of the Tower. Right now. All of you._"

"Karen and the twins are already out—"

"_Fine_," Dick said, still calm and cold. "_Take Aqualad and get out_."

The elevator doors were pinging open at the garage level. As Roy led the way toward the team's jet-black so-called 'town car,' he gestured for Garth to get inside. "Dick, what the hell's going on?" he asked as soon as the keys were in the ignition.

"_Drive away from the Tower._"

"Where are we supposed to go?"

"_Just drive._" Then the _click_ of a severed connection elicited a string of low oaths from the archer. He snapped the T-comm shut and threw it in the backseat, at first too distracted by driving to notice Garth's uneasy expression.

"What's going on?" Garth finally asked. They were on the mainland by now, closing in on downtown Steel. Roy was going too fast on the deserted highways, ignoring signs that he deemed arbitrary, speeding even around the treacherous area of so-called Devil's Curve.

"What's going on?" Garth asked again. "What did Robin say?"

When the archer didn't reply this time, Garth leaned forward to get a better look at his face. An intense scowl clouded his features, drawing dark lines into his forehead.

Garth recoiled back into his seat in surprise when Roy's hand shot out, grabbing the car's cellphone from the front console. "I'm calling Raven," he growled, throwing the Atlantean a dark look. "I don't like this."

"_Why_? What did Rob—"

"Raven?" Roy said into the phone after a moment, then he attached it to the sound system. "You're on speakerphone. What is Robin trying to pull?"

"_What do you mean?_" she asked. "_Where are you?_"

"We're in the car, going into the city—"

"_Wait, I'm confused. 'We'?_"

"Hey, Raven," Garth said.

There was a pause from the other end, and then she made a brief noise of amusement. "_I see_."

"Listen, where's Dick?" Roy asked, ignoring her reaction. He knew she wanted to make a comment about his car companion, but that had to wait. "He just called and made us evacuate the Tower, all of us."

This time, the silence on the line was foreboding. "_I don't know_."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Roy snapped, "He tells you everything—and you can sense anything he _doesn't_ say."

"_No, really_," she muttered, distracted. There was the clacking sound of a keyboard in the background. "_He left the Tower in a rush a little while ago. Around twenty minutes ago, according to the security feeds. Did he say why he wanted you out?_"

"Of course not. Apparently none of you can tell me anything these days, even if it pertains to me. No—_especially_ when it pertains to me."

"_Hey_," she said quickly, "_I don't know why he left either." _Then, after a moment,_ "I'll figure this out. In the meantime, did he say where to go?_"

"Away from the Tower, that's all," Garth supplied. His eyes were glued to Roy's hands on the wheel—his fingers where quivering; either with rage or something else, he didn't know.

"_Then just go to a café or something until I call you._" Another _click_ ended the phone conversation, and the dial tone emanated throughout the car.

Roy returned the phone back to its compartment and sighed, tightening his grip on the wheel.

"Want me to drive?" Garth offered.

"No."

"Want… to go downtown? There's a little French place I go to sometimes…" He gave a placating smile. "If you're hungry…?"

—

Robin had turned off his communicator, cell phone, and even the emergency locator signal built into the sole of his boots. But in his haste, he made a clumsy error and had forgotten about the R-cycle's location indicator.

He never caught the mishap, but Raven figured it out as soon as she noticed the empty R-cycle parking spot. It took her only moments to track its location: Titans East Tower. From there, she rebooted East Tower's mainframe—Robin had shut it down—and scanned the place for heat sources. The Boy Wonder was in Speedy's bedroom, apparently pacing the perimeter of it.

So that's the room where Raven materialized from the floor, transitioning from her shadow form with a sigh. "What in Azar's name are you doing?" she asked curtly.

Robin tensed but didn't step moving. His eyes were roving the walls, his hands sifting through every trinket, picture frame, bookshelf and fixture he could find.

"What are you looking for?" She crossed her arms. "And why did you kick them out?"

"They would've asked questions, and I couldn't have given answers. It has to do with Slade."

Now Raven became tense. Her eyes darkened and she joined Robin, walking next to him and watching him work. "What do you know that I don't?"

"There are cameras in here. Bugs, too. He hired someone." Dick nodded at a near-invisible pile of wires and discs. "I found some of them already. I should've gotten an exact number when I asked."

"Asked _who_?"

"It doesn't matter who." He read into her dubious tone, and added, "But he's reliable." He could feel her trying to pry his mind for an image of this source, but he put up mental walls, and ignored her _harrumph_ of protest when she finally gave up.

"Now," he said after a few minutes, "it shouldn't matter if there are a few left—I took them out with one of Cy's sonic interrupters, so they shouldn't function. But even so, I'd feel better if we scoured every inch of the place, just in case he was using stronger equipment than I anticipated." He looked at her sideways. "Wait, did you talk to them? How did you know—"

"Speedy called me from their car."

Dick's forehead creased. "Did you tell them anything?"

"I told them to lay low at a restaurant until I called back. I can't tell them what I don't even know…"

Nodding, he stepped toward the center of the room with his hands on his hips, looking around, completing a mental checklist of possible camera locations. When he was satisfied, he scooped the tiny pile of devices into one palm.

"What will you do with those?" Raven lifted one of the discs—it was black, and no bigger than the eraser at the end of a pencil. "Incinerate them?" She dropped it back into his hand.

"I was thinking I might put them into water, to make sure they've shorted out, and then break them apart, and _then_ I'll incinerate them…" He smirked. "You can never be too thorough, after all."

* * *

This chapter was actually really impossible to write, because 1) a lot happens, but only a lot of little things, and 2) those little things contain ridiculous amounts of foreshadowing. Oh, the foreshadowing...

Comments? Predictions? Concerns?


	18. Belligerence

**Volte-Face**

By the end of the next two chapters, most of you will want to kill me. (It comes with the territory.)

Thank you…  
**heavenmidori  
APurpleAvacado  
Bizerko-Kittykins  
Astrum Ululatum  
Xment2bursX**- I'm glad you're looking for foreshadowing, because there's buckets full of it. And that thing about the mechanics _was_ foreshadowing-- you'll see how in a few chapters... (Cue ominous music.) PS, I didn't see your PM until today. I'm so oblivious! I'm sorry! I'll get back to you.  
**cheetahluv16  
PlayfulSylph  
mischiefraven  
Satan's Camero 1997  
BipolarPenguins  
Ririi  
archucutie  
Deikuru  
LOL Poptarts**- Wait. You read all 17 chapters in a day? How long did that take you?! (**PrincessxPoptart**? You didn't sign in. And I'm easily confused...)  
**InkGothical  
EulaliaGal**- How did you make it so far without knowing what's going on...?  
**AttiXZaney-foreva  
Mutou Yasu**  
**Aikasankari**- I always click on profiles when I get notification e-mails, so when I got to your profile, I probably stared at it for a good five minutes in confusion. I'm always a little embarrassed when anyone who _isn't_ a teenaged fangirl reviews, and obviously you don't fit that catagory. I'm glad you're reading this; your review means a lot.  
**Nora**- You're right about a few things, although not in exact way they play out (and I won't tell you about that now). You're right about the self-fulfilling prophecies (aren't those the best?), the heroin (it's not for keeping anyone), and, well... It's very hard for me not to say more! Sorry, gotta keep my lips sealed...

The next chapter goes hand-in-hand with this one, but they're too long to be combined into one chapter. So thus, I made them two chapters and just posted them at the same time. Easy solution! If you're the type to review, however, please _do_ review both chapters, and review this chapter before you even _read_ the next chapter. (You'll understand why once you finish chapter 19.)

And now, I present to you…

* * *

"Everything has its hidden meaning which we must know."  
—Maxim Gorky

Kegan was never really a believer when it came to blind faith, or prayer, or any specific omnipotent being. Growing up, he was never in one place long enough to have a strong basis in the family's religion. Even after he got out of the crime circuit, there was never any appeal to it. People with genuine faith seemed quixotic, and the rest—who claimed to be religious, but smothered themselves in sin—were hypocrites.

Michael used to go to church, but only because Cassidy "The Ex" Daniels went. And once she was out of the picture, he and Kegan discovered much more interesting ways to spend a Sunday morning.

But that didn't mean Kegan was a complete nonbeliever. He believed in coincidences, after all, like the one that was right in front of his eyes, with the red hair and sunglasses. Roy Harper—_the_ Roy Harper, whose entire history Kegan had read only the night before—was sitting at table 19, idly picking at his salad, waiting for his teammate to come back from the restroom. It was times like these that he wished he still had Dick's communicator on speed dial.

"Why are you staring at him?" a voice hissed in his ear—Maeve, a coworker. "An ex-boyfriend, perhaps?"

He imagined his honest answer. _Nope, he's the guy a criminal mastermind apparently wants to adopt into his cult of apprentices. There's a chance that he'll betray his team and doom the city, and—oh yeah!—I snuck into his bedroom to put some cameras in place! Do you think he'll mind?_

But instead, Kegan just shook his head. "No, just someone I used to know. I think," he added, looking at Harper again. "I mean, I haven't seen him in years… It's probably just a lookalike."

She shrugged, tugging him out of the way as a customer passed. But her eyes focused on the customer—Harper's teammate—and she gasped, hitting Kegan on the arm excitedly. "Do you know who they are?" she asked him, scandalized, as the dark-haired one sat across from Harper. "They're Titans! _Real_ Teen Titans! In our restaurant!"

"Aren't you supposed to be working?" Kegan laughed, rolling his eyes. Now he really wished he had Dick's number. _Fangirls…_

"My tables are empty, aren't they?" She rose up on her toes to scan the restaurant.

"Table 12 just got seated, and he looks like he wants…" Kegan's voice drifted off. The man at table 12 was staring right at him, and with good reason—it was Dick Grayson, in the flesh. "Speak of the devil…!"

"Kegan?" Maeve asked, waving a hand to get his attention.

"You know what?" He grinned at her. "I got this one. I know him—don't worry about it."

Dick was rubbing the bridge of his nose when Kegan got to his table. In addition to being a little damp from the rain, the Titan looked harassed and tired, but he still smiled when Kegan sat across from him.

"You know that _they're_ here, right?" Kegan hissed, jerking his chin toward the other two Titans.

"Yeah," Dick was nodding, "and I'm sorry about that. I told them to get out of the Tower—so I could take the cameras down—and out of all the places in Steel to choose, they picked this one."

"You got _all_ the bugs? That's incredible. They're _all_—"

The flash of a camera interrupted them, and then the high-pitched giggles of at least four women made Dick wince. He peered over the dividers at Roy and Garth, who looked stunned by the sudden attention.

"Sorry about this," the Boy Wonder sighed, replacing his sunglasses and rising from the table. "But I have to go round them up before this becomes a scene. Go wait in the back, so Roy doesn't recognize you on the way out."

When Dick reached the two Titans, Garth was obligingly signing some woman's napkin, while Roy—usually animated in a crowd—stood with his arms tight against his chest, his expression sullen. Dick wondered if Roy had ever looked more miserable—until Roy's gaze caught on his own, and darkened further.

"Oh, my, _God_!" someone whispered too loudly. "It's _Robin_! What is he doing _here_?"

Garth's head jerked up at the sound of the name; a second later, he was glancing between Dick and Roy, aware of the seemingly-clandestine drama going on with them.

"Hey, Dick," Roy muttered, emphasizing his name in a manner that made Robin think the archer meant it as an insult. "Nice of you to stop by."

"Don't start," came the reply, nearly inaudible. He pasted a smile on for the clamor of patrons as he pulled them both by the arm. "Wait until we're somewhere else. How did you two get here?"

"The Vanquish. It's parked outside."

Dick rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses. "That's one way to be subtle, I guess."

"Well _sor-ry_," Roy snapped, louder now that they were on the sidewalk outside and had to compete with the pattering raindrops. "I didn't have much time to pick out which car would be _least_ conspicuous, thanks to _some_one's insane evacuation drill." He yanked his arm out of Dick's grasp. "Why the hell are you even in town? Shouldn't you be holed up in your shitty little office, investigating things that you won't fucking tell anyone anyway?"

Dick gave a tight-lipped smile. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better."

"The doors are unlocked," Garth announced as they reached the car, in a vain attempt to stop the fight before it escalated. "So just… y'know… get in. If you want."

"Thanks for the well wishes," Roy growled at Dick, climbing angrily into the passenger's seat. "Actually, I'm feeling well enough to kick the shit out of you—which is a good thing, I heartily agree, because you _definitely_ deserve it. What the hell are you trying to pull, anyway? What's up with the Tower? Are we going back there now?" Roy nodded, answering his own question. "Ah, you're in town because you had to search the Tower for something so horrible that no one can know about it. You _did_ search the place, _didn't_ you?"

"That's not true," Dick said from the backseat. He was rubbing his eyes again, his sunglasses strewn on the seat beside him. "But you're right, in that I'm not prepared to disclose the information to you at this time."

"'I'm not prepared to disclose the information at this time'," Roy mimicked. He turned in his seat to glare at Robin better. "What kind of police crap is _that_? That's what cops say when they have no fucking idea what's going on, because their superiors won't tell them shit!"

Garth tapped Roy's knee. "Will you please buckle your seatbelt?"

The archer whipped his head to face Garth, mouth half open to spew a wicked retort, but then he clamped his jaw shut and exhaled. "Yes," he said finally, obediently fiddling with the seatbelt until he could turn around _and_ be buckled in. "Better?" he asked with a mock smile.

"Lovely. Thanks much."

In the back seat, Dick was sniggering. When Roy shot him a glare, he made a thoughtful face and mouthed, _So he wears the pants, then?_

Roy snarled. "Oh, go fuck yourse—"

"What _are_ you doing here, Robin?" Garth cut in.

But Roy answered his inquiry before Dick could. "Isn't it obvious? He's trying to find more people that he can bring into his Tower and divulge important secrets to!"

"Weren't you just saying that I'm not telling _any_ secrets?" Dick shrugged. "It seems to contradict your current theory, that's all I'm saying."

"What about Karen, hm?" Roy squinted at him. "You told her _certain things_ that she didn't need to know."

"And now she's using them to make fun of him," Garth laughed. Having stopped at a red light, he twisted around in his seat. "Do _you_ know who he's in love with?"

Dick managed to keep his composure for about half a second before he spluttered out a sound somewhere between hysterical laughter and choking. The smoldering menace emanating from Roy—whose apparent flush hadn't been noticed by the Atlantean—wasn't nearly enough to ease his amusement. The irony of the situation was really too much.

"I'll take that as a yes?" Garth asked. He turned to Roy for any hints, but the light turned green and suddenly he had to focus on the road again. "No one will tell me!"

"Join the club," Roy murmured, still seething. "No one tells me anything, either."

"See? You were just saying that I tell too many secrets, and now you're saying I don't tell enough!" Dick rolled his eyes. "Is there anything I can do that would satisfy your crazy whims?"

"You know, there is," Roy spat. "You can stay in your fucking office and look up whatever obsessions you're harboring, like Brother Blood or Slade or whatever."

Dick's head jerked up at the casual mention of Slade, surprised to hear Roy use that name so flippantly. Apparently Raven had told him less than Dick thought…

At the same time that Dick looked up, Garth's own eyes widened, accidentally meeting Dick's in the rearview mirror. Even though the Atlantean averted his gaze back onto the road almost instantly, Dick could read into the tension across the pale brow, and knew there was something unresolved there. If Karen had let anything important slip, Garth might be the liability that cost them the future.

"Hey," Dick said suddenly, leaning forward, palms on the edge of his seat. "Can we pull over somewhere?"

"Why," Roy sneered, "Dick gotta piss?"

"Stop it, Roy." Garth's voice was soft, low. "_Please_. And yes," he said louder, addressing Dick himself. "Of course we can, if you don't mind a little rain. Anywhere specific?"

"A convenience store would be great," Dick answered. He found himself distracted by the way Roy let his gaze linger on Garth, as if the archer was immediately pacified by the simple request. Garth seemed to be the lion-tamer who could diminish the tough lion into a kitten. Vaguely, Dick wondered if Roy would find that idea emasculating.

They pulled into some rundown store at the edge of the city, where the sky was dark and the rain seemed to become a brewing storm. Roy opted to stay in the car, arms tightly crossed over his chest, but the other two Titans went into the store.

"All right," Dick said as soon as they got to the deserted bathroom. He spun on Garth, brow quirked. "What do you know about Slade?"

"About… Slade?" The Atlantean gave a brief laugh. "Nothing. Karen said something about you, and I wanted to know if Slade was involved, especially if it pertained to Roy." He pursed his lips. "Is _this_ why we stopped? You could've grilled me in the car—"

"Roy can't know any more than he already does," Dick said quickly. "He might even know too much as it is, and I shouldn't have to tell you that you _cannot_—"

"I can't pass on the Slade news." Garth winked. "I got it."

Dick stared at him, then let out a breath. "I mean it. If you tell Roy _any_thing… disastrous things could happen." _To you,_ he added mentally, _and probably to Roy. Possibly even more of the team than that…_ "This isn't an offhand suggestion—You _have_ to follow it."

"I understand," Garth assured him, just as he had assured his own team's leader. "Karen told me this was a serious thing. I'm not going to ruin your plans."

They had been gone for a few mere minutes, but by the time they returned to the car, Roy was gone. He had disappeared—but he hadn't moved far, Dick quickly realized, as he waved a lazy hand toward the covered gas station. Garth said something under his breath when he got into the car, but it was too low and too exhausted for Dick to hear.

Roy was half-covered in rain and grease when they pulled up beside station six. The archer had a wrench in one hand and a pressure gauge in the other, and he was kneeling next to one of the tires.

Garth sighed, tapping his fingers on the wheel. "What _is_ he doing?"

Dick shrugged and shoved the baseball cap onto his head. "Looks like he's… helping."

But Garth nodded out the window to the two identical women standing in yellow and pink raincoats beside him. "More like he's flirting," he remarked, with a rare trace of resentment in his tone. After watching Roy move to the hood of the car, he rolled his eyes and slammed his palm into the car's horn.

The blaring noise resounded across wet pavement and made all three of the figures jump. But it was Roy, not the girls, who had his head under the popped hood, and so the back of his skull knocked against blunt metal with a sharp crack.

"You wanted that to happen, didn't you?"

Garth shrugged, unable to hide his pleased smirk. But that faded when Roy just glared at the car and turned to the girls, giving them each a roguish grin. By the way they giggled, it was clear that he had made some clever, alluring remark.

The Atlantean honked the horn again, sliding the window down. "Roy, c'mon! Let's go! You didn't want to stop here in the first place!"

"I didn't know I could be _of assistance_ in the first place!" the redhead yelled back. His hands were already rooting around under the car's hood again, yanking and twisting, and he was still speaking in an undertone to the girls.

"He's just trying to piss you off, you know," Dick said quietly. He buckled his seatbelt and crossed his arms languidly. "Just go park. He'll get over himself soon enough."

Seething, Garth hit the horn again, briefly, before driving to a far parking space. "He can walk in the rain when he comes back, then. Serves him right."

Dick closed his eyes and leaned back into the seat. "If you say so."

—

The sharp sound of Wintergreen's shoes against the marble hallway floors announced his arrival before his wheezing voice pervaded the master's study. Slade was at the large, oak desk in the center of the room when the elderly butler burst through the doors, one palm pressed to his chest as if to hold in his frantic heart. His eyes held a mix of fear and hope.

"Sir!" the man gasped.

"Yes, Wintergreen?" Slade stood, hands clasping behind his back.

"Sir—She called! It's time! Go—" His already-strained lungs spasmed and before he could speak more, a torrent of coughs forced its way through his throat.

"Who called, Wintergreen?" Slade put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Wintergreen. _Wintergreen_. Who called?"

"I… Ivy Pierce." He inhaled. "It's time."

"Time?" And then Slade realized what he meant. "Of course. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir," Wintergreen panted. But Slade was already across the room, the phone to his ear. When the ringing ceased and the obedient voice of a secretary answered, the master smiled.

"Yes, it's time. Bring me Roy Harper."


	19. Ruin

**Volte-Face**

RUIN, _n_: a fallen, wrecked, or decayed condition. See FAILURE, TRASH.

* * *

"In every parting there is an image of death."  
—George Eliot

With all his experience with women, Roy should've been perfectly comfortable with the twins he was helping at the gas station. But there was something wrong.

It wasn't their appearance, or their manners. They smelled sweet, like a blend of peaches and flowers, and the way their drenched hair clung to their faces was endearing and gave them some semblance of innocence. The hint of a southern accent hid in their twangy vowels and polite speech. But the way they leaned over the engine beside him, their smooth thighs _accidentally_ brushing against him, hinted at their modern, city-dwelling lifestyle.

No, it wasn't that they were unattractive beings. He just… wasn't attracted. And Roy Harper had never before felt that way toward otherwise perfectly alluring women.

_Twins_, he inwardly sighed, while his mouth was rattling off directions to a good mechanic by itself. _They're twins, self. What the hell is wrong with you?_

The girls were thanking him now, flipping their hair and sharing some secret message with each other via smiles. One extracted a pen and paper from their purse while the other kept talking.

"We're so glad we stopped at the gas station with the handsome Good Samaritan!" She smiled, nodding at the paper that her twin was extending to him. "We'll be in the city for a few days, so… call us."

Roy looked at the paper—there was a phone number scrawled across it in perfect cursive—and then at the twins. He still couldn't feel any magnetism toward them.

"Just in case you want to, you know, _fiddle with things under the hood_ a little more." The first twin winked. "Or… teach us how to _work the parts_ better."

Roy laughed and pocketed the slip of paper. "Oh, I'm sure all your _parts_ are working fine already," he answered, eliciting giggles from the girls. "But I'll see what I can do. Now, my friend is probably going to kill me if I don't get back. I'll be around." He winked, and turned to leave.

The archer was only a few steps away from the covered station before he was already sopping wet again. He squinted through the rain for Garth's car and spotted it in the next lot over.

"You've got to be kidding me," Roy sighed, and started his hike.

When he got back to the car, he couldn't open the door. He knocked on the window, waving at the Titans he _knew_ were inside. The doors didn't unlock.

"Dammit, Garth. Let me in!" he demanded, hitting the window again. He couldn't see through the tinged glass, and that made him even more annoyed. "C'mon, I'm already fucking soaked out here!"

The window opened an inch. "I don't know," Garth said from the inside. "Robin, did he say _please_? I couldn't hear."

"Just let him inside," came the answer.

"Fishstick, if you don't let me in _right now_, I'm draining your pools."

No response.

"Garth!" Roy slammed his hands against the window. "I'm going to buy every fish-like meat from the grocery store, and I'll fill your room with them. _Then,_ I'll fill your pools with shrimp, like I did when you dismantled my bow. Remember that? _That_ was _fun_ for me. And that's going to happen again if you don't—"

The lock popped open, allowing Roy to slosh into the front seat.

"It's about damn time," he growled.

"I see you got a phone number out of it, though," Dick commented.

Roy took out the paper and crumpled it, flicking it at the Boy Wonder. "Have it. It's yours now."

Garth sneered, his tone carrying the rare hint of derision. "Not into girls anymore? I always suspected."

This time, neither Dick nor Roy had a retort quick enough to answer that. Both simply sat there with wide eyes, surprised not only at the degree of scorn that came with the remark, but also at the comment itself. When he could move again, Roy sent Dick a confused glance—a silent _Does he know?_—but the leader only shrugged, just as perplexed. Before they realized it, too much time had passed to reply, and the silence had become too thick to speak through.

"Robin," Garth said sharply a few minutes later. They were on the highway again, and it was the only word that had been spoken since they left the parking lot. "Where are we dropping you off?"

"I'm staying over at the Tower for a night. I can head back in the morning."

"Oh, super. That's _really_ great. _Really_." Roy's sarcasm was more than apparent; Dick just ignored it. Garth, however, did not.

"You know what, Roy?" A pale index finger was suddenly pointed emphatically at the archer, a few inches from his face. "You… just… Shut up. Okay? _Shut up_. I am so _sick_ of you."

Frowning, Dick uncrossed his arms and sat upright. He didn't need them fighting. "Listen, I appreciate the support, but you really don't—"

"No." Garth threw the archer a glare. "He needs to be quiet. _You_"—he jammed a finger through the air at Roy again—"need to get over yourself. And also, you need to clean out my car when we get home. You're getting everything wet."

"Chill out, Fishy." Roy shoved the pale hand away from him and sunk lower into his seat. "You were just being the mediator on the ride over here. What, did you shove a tree trunk up your ass at the gas station? What's your issue?"

"_You_ seem to be my issue! So just stop complaining for half a second and realize this world does _not_ revolve around Roy Harper!"

"Well, _you_ are _my_ issue, too," Roy snapped back, glaring out the window. _And you have no idea how much of an issue I have_, he added silently.

The Atlantean was about to throw out another venomous remark when Dick decided to end the feud, and interrupted with a calm tone.

"So Garth," he said pointedly, gaining the Titan's attention before he divulged the ideas for a new bridge in Jump City to replace one that had rusted over. For the rest of the ride to the East Tower, they discussed water damage-resistant materials and underwater lighting apparatuses, while Roy stared mutely out the window.

Karen and the twins, having apparently returned from their meal, were waiting in the lower garage of the Tower when Garth carefully parked the Vanquish in its proper place. The twins had pried the back door open before Dick could even reach the handle, and they were pulling him out of the car and leaping up to hug him before he could react to their intrusion.

"We just made late-night pancakes," Karen explained with a chuckle. "So they're a little hyper. Want some?"

"I'd love some pancakes," Dick grinned, mussing both twins' hair simultaneously. "I'll race you."

Both were gone in a flash.

The two leaders started a slow ascent to the first floor of the Tower, halfway up the steel staircase when they realized the other two Titans weren't following.

"You guys coming?" Karen called down.

"Apparently, I need to mop up the front seat of his car," came Roy's reply, muffled slightly by the way he was scouring shelves for a dry towel.

"I'm supervising him," Garth answered.

Robin muttered something to her about leaving them be, and then the duo disappeared into the elevators at the top of the stairs.

"Aren't you the one who controls water?" Roy asked tersely. He had a towel in each hand and a scowl etched into his face, about to start his tedious punishment. "You could probably dry out your car in thirty seconds if you tried."

"Oh, I'm sure I could dry up the mess myself, and in _much_ less time than thirty seconds." Garth shrugged with one shoulder. "It's not my mess though, it's yours."

Roy growled in frustration, and then set to drying up the seat and floor. It was minutes before either spoke again, and when Garth did, he was by Roy, leaning against the archer's motorcycle.

"Listen," he said, "I know you and Robin have some kind of rift between you at the moment, but maybe you should consider what he's saying, and maybe do what he tells you to do."

Roy granted Garth a glare. "And why's that?"

"Well, I mean, he's Dick Grayson, _the_ Boy Wonder, leader of the Teen Titans. He was trained by the best."

"If by _the best_, you mean some crazy tycoon who dresses up as his own worst fear, then I—"

"Roy," he said to stop the archer, with the slightest hint of levity in his voice. "He's our _leader_. He knows what he's doing."

But Roy shook his head. "You don't understand." He tossed the damp towels to Garth when he stood to get new ones. "He keeps secrets. Secrets that involve _me_, specifically, but he keeps them to himself."

"He probably has a good reason. Have you asked him?"

Roy snorted. "Of course I—"

"I mean, have you asked Dick _nicely_? Instead of the usual attack tactic you seem to favor?"

The redhead was about to reply when his mouth snapped shut and he became still. Turning to face Garth, he shot him a curious look. "Why do you even _care_ how Dick and I get along?"

"You're both my teammates, aren't you?" Garth stood upright, nearing his car, slamming the passenger door shut. "And when you guys are mad—especially you, who I see every day—it gets _me_ mad. And anyway, I really do think you should listen to him. Dick's only trying to—"

"Is that all you can say? Dick, Dick, Dick," Roy groaned. Then, maliciously, he chuckled. "Are you into that now? I thought girls were more your type, but—"

"See?" The Atlantean heaved an audible sigh of aggravation. "You can't even take a suggestion from someone when it's trivial, let alone when it's Robin and he needs you to cooperate for the sake of the greater good."

"What greater good?" Roy held out his arms, looking around. "I see no _good_ greater than my personal understanding of the situation here."

"By the g—You are… _so_…" Garth threw his hands up. "I can't even describe it. Self-centered, to begin with. Narcissistic, proud, sinful. You won't take direction—"

"You're _very_ flattering," Roy snapped.

"—from _anyone_, your superiors included."

"My _superiors_?"

Now Garth was nodding, advancing, in Roy's face. "Yes, your _superiors_—you don't listen to them! Robin, Bee, Green Arrow—"

Roy shoved him. "Don't fucking bring Ollie into this!" he snarled.

Undeterred, Garth continued, even more furious. "Even the government is below you in Speedyland! The law is dirt to you! You're as bad as some of the criminals! You're always drinking or smoking or sleeping in a different bed every night—"

"You know what? Fuck you! That doesn't make me a fucking crimin—"

"Yes, you're right, that doesn't make you a criminal," Garth spat, grabbing the front of Roy's shirt in both fists. "That just makes you a pathetic, disobedient excuse for an ally—"

"Get the fuck off me!"

Garth slammed him into a wall instead. Roy was aware of his back hitting brick before the blow yanked the air from his lungs. Pale fingers tightened around the fabric of Roy's shirt as he jerked Roy closer to his face.

"Right now, I'm ashamed to even admit I'm _acquainted_ with you! I'm fairly certain I'd be shunned permanently from society if I called you my _friend_!"

He considered that for a moment, then—when Roy tried to speak—pounded him into the wall, making him lose his breath a second time.

"Shut up," the Atlantean barked, teeth clenched. Long-hidden resentment roughened his voice. "And now that I think about it, you aren't exactly a friend to begin with—to me or _any_one else. Are you really _that_ shallow, _that_ self-centered, that you can attach to people like a parasite until it suits your needs—and then leave them, no strings atta—_Hey_!"

Roy had finally moved against his teammate. He pried Garth's fingers from the front of his shirt and twisted his wrists until the dark-haired prince flinched. He let go without warning and, using the wall behind him for support, used one leg to shove the Atlantean away. Roy's foot hit Garth squarely in the chest, knocking the aquatic wonder back a few paces.

Breathless, Garth glowered at Roy, his eyes smoldering with rage. "You're just mad because I'm _right_. Because what I'm saying is _true_." He took a deep breath. "I _pity_ you. You have no real relationships, no real _loves_, no real _friends_… And with your attitude, why _would_ anyone want you? You may as well be dead alread—"

With one blow, Garth was on the floor, jaw aching from where Roy's fist had made contact.

"Fuck off," Roy growled.

Barely conscious of where he was going, or what the Atlantean was saying to him, he straddled his motorcycle and kicked the thing into motion. He met the stale air of the underwater tunnel and sped toward the city, not thinking, not going anywhere in particular as long as it was away from the Tower. Where he would end up didn't matter, he didn't care any more.

All Roy could process was the painful blow that had shattered his ill-conceived illusions. There was a small glimmer of hope he had secretly harbored that maybe, eventually, Garth might feel the same way toward him—but now it was obvious that he had hoped in vain.

The headlights were the only source of light in the concrete tunnel, and that scathingly truthful voice was the only thing in Roy's head. He couldn't believe it—he _had_ to believe it—he _knew_ all those things were true. The alienation, the obstinacy, the egotism, the insensitivity—all of it.

The beeping of his communicator made him veer awkwardly to the right; sharp reflexes saved him from tumbling headlong into the walls. Letting out a line of oaths, he yanked the communicator from his jeans.

He knew the incoming call was from Karen even before he saw _Bee_ flash onto the screen. Who else would want him anyway?

But he didn't want to speak to her. Not only her—not Garth, not Dick, not Raven, or _any_one anymore. He'd just mess it up despite trying his best with impossible odds, and god_damn_ he didn't want to be disappointed again.

"Don't fucking"—he threw the yellow device onto the pavement—"talk to me!"

A piece clipped off from the communicator on impact, but it wasn't broken yet. The light was still blinking. The connection could still be salvaged.

He revved the engine of the motorcycle and shot toward the device, getting a sickening amount of pleasure as the glass screen chinked in every direction. He pulled a U-turn and went toward it again, repeating the destruction until the yellow paint was no longer yellow; now it was in a thousand tiny flecks, just a funny mark of crushed electronics and plastic scraped against the tunnel pavement.

Roy stopped the motorcycle and stared down at the puddle of ruined equipment. A grotesque sort of fascination kept his eyes on it, like an accident on the highway that was impossible to avoid, impossible to avert his gaze from, equal parts mesmerizing and gruesome.

He wanted to grieve, he wanted to laugh—to do _some_thing—but he felt too empty now. He knew he was guilty, not just for what Garth had said, but also more—and yet the shock hadn't worn off and he felt good and nauseated at the same time.

Letting out a wild grin, he shifted into the fastest gear, loving the sound of the whining engine. As he whipped into mainland traffic, he knew he was going far too fast, tens of miles above the speed limit, but he couldn't stop and he didn't want to stop he just wanted to become free of whatever chains he'd put on himself—

And suddenly he was on a highway off a highway engine keening as he swerved through the countryside, avoiding cars in the opposite lane by mere fractions of an inch. Then he was on a low cliff curving on the gravel close to the edge and there was a flash and a _Caution!_ sign and his engine sparked, the bike trembling and the gravel below him shifted and the wheel jammed on the edge and he pitched over the cliff and he was falling and flying and something scraped his arm his hand his shoulder and a branch caught his face and—

Everything went black.


End file.
